


Sunkissed

by Epselion, LadySilvertongue



Category: Real Person Fiction
Genre: Alternate Universe - Historical, Greek Mythology - Freeform, M/M, Major Character Injury, Male Slash, Plot, Temporary Character Death, War
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-04-29
Updated: 2014-07-21
Packaged: 2018-01-21 06:14:24
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 6
Words: 28,461
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1540634
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Epselion/pseuds/Epselion, https://archiveofourown.org/users/LadySilvertongue/pseuds/LadySilvertongue
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Summary: The war with the Romans has held Greece busy for almost a decade now. But it appears that now it is no longer a fight of men. The gods are meddling and darker forces lurk between the enemies. Chris is but a simple farmer that chooses to stay far away from the gore and pain of war. But the gods have chosen that he is to be involved, when it all starts with a rather unexpected guest arriving on his property one night.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. bloodred sunset

**Author's Note:**

> This is a rp between me and my co-writer. She has written Chris and I have written Tom. All other characters are mostly shared by either of us when we needed to. :3

Stop moving you dolt." Hadley grumbled, dabbing at the deep shoulder wound  before him with a white linen cloth. "Honestly Thomas, you better watch your back- I won't always be there to cover for you. Or to stitch you up." He emphasized by pressing firmly on the stitches. "Are you sure you'll be well enough to join tomorrow?"  
  
Tom let out a cry and grit his teeth. Twitching at the sharp jolt of pain that rushed through his veins.  "Doesn't mean you have to make it hurt MORE!" He looked over to his shoulder then. It was just a flesh wound. Hadley wasn't exactly nimble-fingered, that was why it looked worse than it actually was really. "I have to be there tomorrow. My men need me to be there."  
  
"Your men need you ALIVE. They need you healthy and of sound mind. Do you really think you'll lead them to victory if you won't even be able to lift your sword?" Hadley retorted, wrapping up the man's shoulder with bindings. "Think of the lives that will be lost if you make a poor call. If the enemy sees your weakness, they will exploit it. You need to recover... the last fight also took its toll on you. A wise man knows how to choose his battles."  
  
"My sword-arm is my other arm Hadley." Tom sat up and rubbed his left shoulder a bit. The flaps of the tent waved in the wind, cold wind blowing over his sweaty skin. He was getting slightly feverish from the pain, but Hadley couldn’t talk him out of this. He was going, this was too important. "I am perfectly capable of a good mind. If I don't lead them my men will be like sheep, running every way without their shepherd. Just try to put it together well enough that it can take a bit of a hit." He said before closing his eyes for a moment. "Stupid spears..."  
  
Hadley frowned. So stubborn, always so stubborn. He put away the needle and thread before he stood up to clean his hands. "Tom, please. As your friend and brother in arms- rest for a bit. The Romans won't be going, the war will still be there to fight another day, but if you die- it will be permanent. I mean look at you- you can barely stay awake and you're showing the first signs of infection. Please, Tom? Have you no faith in me at all? I can lead your men.. I have led them on many occasions when we needed to split up. Let me prove my worth."  
  
"You can lead them when I'm DEAD." Tom answered. He rubbed his face and stood up from the stretcher. "Go to bed. The Romans will be stirring again by dawn and I still need you at my right." He brushed his fingers through his hair. Short brown, he could not have it in his face. He splashed water in his face and let his arm hang loose to try and spare his nerves. "Hadley... That was an order." He ushered when he saw the man stand there and grumble a bit behind his back.   
  
Tom waited for Hadley to leave and sat back on the stretcher, tossing away the bloody cloth his shoulder had been resting on. He put his body to rest carefully and shut his eyes. His arm hurt, but pain was a minor sacrifice. It was his responsibility to lead the troops in his command. And he did not take that lightly. Tomorrow there was another day, and there would be days after that too. But one day the war would end and he would see that day. He was certain of it.  
  
Chris kicked one more time at the wood of the chicken coop he'd been fixing and sighed out a relieved breath when it finally stopped leaning to the side. He really hated having to work alone sometimes... but with everything that had been happening in the bigger cities and towns, he was glad for the reprieve of solitary living. It meant nobody could cheat him or sell him out to provide for the colonies- and it meant he didn't need to choose a side. Neutrality was a blessing. He looked up from his handiwork when he heard Godfrey start barking - he squinted towards the direction where his pup's high pitched barks were directed at, vaguely seeing the shadows shift and form into the silhouette of a steed.  
  
When the silhouette kept approaching Chris grabbed his pitchfork, just in case. The horse was white... At least he supposed that it once might have been. There were whiter patches of coat between the brown, red and green smudges. That horse had come from the battlefield. And when the stallion closed in yet some more he could distinguish a rider in the saddle as well. The horse moved rather slow though. And the one riding it did a lousy job, bouncing with the movements way too much as if he wasn't even trying.  
  
Chris bit his lip, "Stop right there! I'm warning you!" He called out, but as the steed kept approaching, he moved forward and raised his meagre weapon, ready to strike. The horse seemed to sense his intent and bucked back, and to his surprise, its rider fell off boneless. He stopped, raising the lamp he'd brought and what he saw made him almost gag. The man was sprawled on his side, covered in blood from almost head to toe- but that wasn't even half of it. He was littered with deep wounds, some of his skin having been torn apart jaggedly with bits of his flesh hanging by a single sinew. The smell was what hit him next- it wasn't just the coppery smell of blood, but also a certain rotten stench that emanated from the man- thing- body? He went over and knelt beside the man- trying his best not to gag at the pus was oozing from some of the half-clotted wounds. He really wasn't expecting the man to be alive- so when he felt faint puffs of air touching the skin of his fingers, his eyes widened significantly and his hands shook as he wrapped his coat over the man's body. He really didn't want to involve himself with someone who looked half-dead, not to mention a stranger- but gods help him, he wouldn't let anyone just die. Especially not on his property.  
  
The horse let out some rather disgruntled noises, as if it was none too happy to be relieved of its rider. It bowed its head and started to sniff on the soldier, gently nudging him with its nose. The side of the saddle and the horse itself were also spattered with blood. Chris was sure now that the battlefield was a bad place to be. Look at what it did... The sun was setting steadily, creating long shadows across the ground. And it was quiet. It always was rather quiet where Chris lived. But this was a deeper kind of silent. A dead silence. He just hoped it wasn’t a promise of what was to come. He just wanted peace, his own life. But not at the cost of another’s life. Too many people had died around him already, he wasn’t going to let the count rise.  
  
Chris tried to be careful, he really did- but when he sat the man up and lifted him to his arms, he heard and practically felt bones shifting. He quickly walked back to the safety of his home after he'd secured the steed in the barn- he didn't want to risk meeting the enemies of this man. Maybe they would do to him what they did to this stranger. He would rather die quick if it were to come. He lay the battered body down the table- gods, that was where he ATE- and got a good look at the extent of the man's injuries. Now that there was more light, he could see the full damage the man had suffered. His upper body was a mess of torn clothing and ravaged skin, a few cuts so deep that he could see bone peeking through if he shifted it at the right angles. He also had a few broken bones, his right arm quite clearly even and then there was certainly a dislocated left shoulder- his fingers also looked bent unnaturally. He would worry about bones later though- his main concerns now were the pus infected, bone deep, blackening flesh wounds. Gods... he wasn't made for this. He could only help to the best of his ability.  
  
He steeled himself then and worked through the night. At some point he came to realize that sponging the body clean was making a mess more than he'd thought and he'd left to fill up his bath with water. He'd been very careful to move the other again and he'd set him in the tub to just soak clean for a few moments. When he returned with whatever he could find to try and fix this guy he could finally distinguish some actual skin. He could see the transitions between flesh and wounds, well it was a start at least. He cleaned the man's face after that and started to look how that armour could come off without Chris accidently pulling off his arm or something. Because it looked like that would happen too easily.  
  
In the end, Chris simply decided to just cut through it with his improvised tools, twisting metals and sawing through chainmail. It was tedious work, but it finally let him work without having any obstructions. The armour was fixable, he would get to do that in a few days. If not for his patient then maybe for himself instead, it never hurt to have protection lying around. He stitched up the deeper wounds, others he seared shut with a blade, and others still, he decided he couldn't fix and just left them with a bundled up piece of cloth strapped to it. The man barely clung to life, his breaths almost next to non-existent. Chris had the vague feeling that he wouldn't make it to sunrise, so when he finished doing what he could, he stayed with the man- keeping track of his breathing and every small hitch- the weak pulse that scared him sometimes when it seemed to stutter off to nothing. When it remained unchanged he took the dare and brought him back to the table, he wouldn’t leave that bloody mess in his bed quite yet. He sighed, picking Godfrey off the floor to sit on his lap after he had settled in a chair. If the man wouldn't die from his injuries- the infection and fever would kill him off. Chris didn't have what it took to treat and help people torn by war.  
  
When the sun rose again he perked up from his chair. The animals were stirring to life, waiting for him to feed them. He was not sure as to why he was in a chair rather than his bed. He always went to bed early enough, he never fell asleep elsewhere. When he stood however he was remembered of his 'problem' by the smell of it. Despite his cleaning efforts the man's body still had a certain stench. He stood and checked the guy up, fully expecting to be digging a grave for him this morning. But his breath was still coming out in hesitant little sighs and it wasn't dying out either. Chris sighed and fed his animals, going about his routine before he headed to his shrine. He gave Demeter an offering each day to thank her for his fertile land and healthy live-stock. He filled her a cup of his grain, putting it on the altar. He put a candle up for her and decorated the bowl with fresh flowers from his field. He was about to leave again when he got a different idea and he sighed. He set down a second bowl and lit a second candle, this time calling to Apollo. He put flowers in this bowl as well and cut himself to offer the god his healthy blood. He grabbed the bloody cloth with the stranger's blood on it and prayed to Apollo to give the soldier blood as healthy as the blood he'd offered. It was worth the try.  
  
After he'd finished up his morning routine, Chris went inside to cook a bit of brunch, a simple meal of mushroom soup with few vegetables more. He burnt some of it in the hearth, it was tradition, and ate his fill. When he was done, he painstakingly fed the other man as well. It was tricky, needing to keep his head tilted and rub at his throat to get him to swallow, not to mention that he also had to time when to slip the liquid between his lips - else he choke or inhale some of the soup. He only fed him a small portion, just a little over a quarter of a bowl. Chris had planned to go into town today, but he really didn't want to come home to a corpse on his table. He settled instead with getting to work on his farm, planting new crops to grow in the small backyard garden and letting the animals out on the field to graze, all the while going back and forth inside the house to check on the man. There was no change in his condition though- still weak breathing, weak heartbeat... but at least he wasn't deteriorating either. Without him knowing it, hours had passed and soon, it was nearing dusk again. He took a bath to rid himself of the dirt and grime and went back to check on the man, hoping to find him improved. He was disappointed however, because it seemed he'd gotten worse. Shivers now wracked his body and he was making odd gurgling sounds, so Chris turned him on his side- and when his hands came in contact with the stranger's skin, he felt his hopes come crashing down. The man's skin was burning with fever- and the weak heartbeat was now an erratic rhythm. He had no doubt now... the man was going to die halfway through the night if he didn't get any medication.  
  
He felt helpless when the man was twisting and turning in what seemed to be agony. Chris had the idea to bring the poor stranger to his bed so he could have his last night in a soft, comforting space. But he could not take a decent hold of the writhing body. The man's brow was furrowed, his brown hair soaked wet from his sweat. He was in pain. Chris took a few deep breaths and grabbed his pillow. He hadn't ever killed a man before. But this wasn't murder was it? The guy was writhing in pain and whimpering. He was hurting. He walked back to the table and stood over the shaking body. "I am so sorry." He spoke. He was about to cover the man's face when suddenly the body fell still, as if he was asleep again. Was he dead? Chris gently checked his pulse. It was steadying.  
Chris blinked once, twice- then put down the pillow and checked again. It was real- the man heaved a deep breath and let it out, his chest then rising and falling with more ease before slipping back into soft sighs. He smiled despite himself, the gods must have been on their side. Whatever that 'side' was. He decided to transfer the soldier onto his bed then, gently easing his arms under his knees and wrapping his other one behind him, carrying him up to his room. The fever was still there, but it wasn't anything like the furnace-like heat from just a few minutes ago. He snorted at himself, he didn't know what he'd do once the man woke up...  
  
The soldier stayed asleep for many more days. Chris took care of his horse as well in the meantime. Despite the fact that it was a steed and that it'd been in battle Chris found it to be a friendly horse. It was indeed white with a few grey spots on the flanks. It was a really good horse. Had he been dishonest he would have sold it. This one could bring in a lot of money. But he wasn’t like that.  
  
Chris had kept the armour the stranger had been wearing when he crashed on his ground. He'd found out it was Greek. So the other wasn't Roman. That was good. It meant that he had at least saved someone from his own people.  By now he was also sure that Apollo had blessed the man with new health. Since the day Chris had almost killed him the man's hair had started to discolour. It was brown when Chris found him, and with each day it started to get more golden. It was an odd sight to behold. He figured that once the transition was done his charge would wake. So he was patient and kept his offerings to Apollo going, sure that he would be receiving some sort of gratitude for his selfless behaviour.  
Chris took care of the man for almost three weeks, continuing his routines without worry now and even leaving every other day to sell his produce. On the morning of the nineteenth day, while he was out tending to his animals he heard the distinct squeaky bark of his dog from the house and hurried off to see what the problem was this time. When he opened the door though, he was met by the sight of Godfrey licking at the strangers face, pausing to bark at him again. "Hey! Don't do that you daft ball of fur." He picked the pup up and looked at his charge, then stared with his mouth agape as the man stared right back at him.  
  
The stranger smiled a bit. "I think I was at least half responsible..." He groaned, pushing himself up on the bed to sit. "I called him over." He looked at Chris with a light frown. "I do not mean to be rude, or to disrespect your care, but who are you? And where is this place? I remember nothing since the battlefield... Nothing at all." He looked himself over a little. He was a mess. His entire body packed and stitched. He frowned a little. What happened? And how the hell did he end up here?  
Chris opened his mouth to speak, but closed it again and simply looked at the man with hopes of being casual about it. "You were half-dead when I found you. And you're on my property- I think I'm the one who should be asking questions." He frowned a bit and put his pup down to arrange pillows behind the man's back. "You came here on your steed. Where here is, however, I'm not saying until you tell me who you are. Why were you in the state I found you in? Where did you come from? Where are the rest of your comrades? We may share the same beliefs, but I want no part in the war." He'd picked Godfrey up again, stroking his fur as he sat down on a chair. War had cost him his family, and others as well- he didn't want anything to do with it.  
  
The soldier nodded. "Of course... My name is Tom. I am a...." He paused. No, too risky to tell the man his position. "I'm cavalry soldier from the fifteenth battalion." He could not trust the man with his status. He could think a big fish would bring in some money, sell him out maybe. "We fought and defended the plains of Corinth." He frowned and tried to untangle his last memories at the battlefield. It was all such a blur. "I remember our troops were riding to flank the Romans that were heading for the city, but they had moved overnight and were now behind us. We were taken completely by surprise.... I-I'm sorry but I don't remember leaving the battle or going here... Wherever 'here' is." He leaned against the pillows that were put behind him. "Ah.... That hurts...." He breathed out through his nose sharply. "I should have died.... How am I even alive?"  
  
Chris tilted his head. Well, the man did look like he was just a foot soldier. He let out a sigh. "You're in my farm, a few miles away from Athens." He looked the man over, squinting. "You've travelled quite far." He set Godfrey on the man's lap, getting up to get some water and the few crackers he'd been munching on from his satchel, offering some of them to Tom. "My name is Chris. As I've said I found you almost three weeks ago. Beaten and bloody... I prayed to Apollo for your healing and I've been taking care of you ever since. Don't ask ME why you're still alive. Also, your hair is blond now, just saying." He said with a bit of a shrug, sitting down on his perch again.  
  
Tom nodded and softly rubbed his fingers through the dog's coat. "I owe you my life... You have my deepest gratitude." When Chris spoke of his hair he frowned and touched his head. It felt normal. Apollo had blessed him? Why? He was no special person. He was just Tom. He was a good general. He would admit. But for the gods to choose to save him... "I thank you a thousand fold for your help. If I can repay the favour in any way..."  
Chris smiled a bit at that, at least the man had the decency to be grateful. He'd expected him to be haughty and self-absorbed, but it seemed he was wrong. "You can start by keeping him company while I tend to my farm." He gestured to the dog, "I still need to finish doing a few things, but I'll be back with some lunch later. Will you be alright here by yourself? I have a few books you could read. I don't think it would be the best idea to move you around quite yet."  
  
"I'll be fine... Just sore." Tom rubbed his chest and shifted a little. Chris put a book on the bedside-table. "Just be careful with yourself." He said before heading out to do his chores. Tom nodded and petted the dog. He grabbed the steel platter Chris had put bandages on and studied his face. His hair had gone blond... Golden even one could say. But however happy he was that Apollo had granted him a second chance he also felt anxious as to why he had done so.  
  
For the rest of the morning, Chris was anxious. The man was awake now... it was different when he'd been asleep, Chris didn't need to worry about him doing anything then. But now, it didn't sit well with him that a complete stranger was staying in his home. When he was done, he made a simple meal of freshly chopped vegetables with olives and cheese, a bit of lamb meat as well- because he could afford it- and honeyed lime juice. He cleared his throat as he entered his room, getting the soldier’s attention before setting the tray down. He sat on the chair beside the bed instead of on it and looked at the man's bandaged fingers. "I err... do you need help with that?"  
  
Tom looked at his fingers. They were hurting. He would not deny that. "I think they'd do better when they are left alone... They hurt but they're not crooked. Thank the gods." He closed the book. The dog left his bed to join Chris again and the man started to help him eat when he kept dropping his spoon on accident. It was hard to eat with healing fingers. He looked at the farmer. "You are very kind to me. Even in the army they do not care like you do.”  
  
Chris frowned and held up another forkful for Tom, waiting until he'd bitten the food off. "Well, be glad I'm not from the army then." When Tom said he'd had enough, he started on his own meal. He kept looking up at the man, watching him as he stared at his lap. "What are you planning when you've recovered? Will you leave to join your comrades again?" He was worried... what if the man chose to leave and bring back his men? He could feed a few soldiers, sure- but the whole reason why he chose to live a solitary life was for that sole purpose. He didn't want to be involved.  
  
Tom shrugged a little. "I will return to the battlefield. I swore my allegiance to this land and its people. And if Apollo chose to save me it is not so I can cower." He looked around the room a bit. "But fret not. I will take my steed when the day is due and you will not see another soldier come here anymore. Perhaps we will meet again after the war has been fought. But I will bring no danger to your fields.”  
  
Chris smiled sheepishly at the man then, "Am I that obvious?" He chuckled, placing his finished plate on the tray on the bedside table. "Then I shall wish you well when you do. I can't imagine having to live a life like that... I'm afraid I am not brave enough."  
"Oh I doubt it's your bravery." Tom interjected. He rubbed his shoulder when it started pulsing again. Chris looked at him with a bit of a frown. "You were brave enough to take in a perfect stranger. Brave enough to take responsibility over my life. No... You are no coward." He let out a muffled groan as he felt a painful shift near his hip. "Your heart is too kind. That is why you won't fight. You care too much. You can’t bring yourself to take a life, or watch others do it to their enemies. Which is your right of course. Not every man has the stomach for it."  
  
Chris took hold of Tom's hand when it drifted to his hip, "Don't. You'll make it hurt more." He sighed then, pulling the blankets that were covering him up to the man's chest. "Take it easy for a while. You suffered quite the ordeal." He said as he stood again, looking down at Tom who was trying to mask his pain. Chris sighed, "I'll go into town, sell some of my animals and see if I can get you anything for the pain. I'll be back in an hour, two hours tops."  
  
"You don't need to spend your money for me. I have dealt with pain before." Tom protested a bit. And the sheets were soft too. Not like those hard woven blankets and their sacks of straw to sleep on. No, a feathered pillow, good linen bedding and a soft mattress. "You try and sleep for a bit. Godfrey will keep you company. Feel free to talk to him." Chris chuckled a little. Tom smiled at him a bit. "I'll try." He promised.  
Chris left with two healthy chickens, half a sack of good corn, two crates of milk, and a good harvest of wheat- he figured it would do for a few good remedies. He left for the markets and traded his goods for a handful of golden drachmas and went to buy the best pain reliever he could. He bought a few bottles of the tonic and other herbs and remedies just for variety, in the end, he still had some coins to spare to buy the man two sets of clothing and some potatoes to cook for dinner. He had a new flock of chicks that were about to reach maturity and he was expecting another calf to be born anyways. He would earn the money again. He went home feeling a tad bit lighter that afternoon, giving himself a mental pat on the back. After all, fortune favoured those that gave, and he believed that doing good was its own reward


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comments or eviews are very welcome :3

Tom was asleep when Chris returned. He was half on his side, his hands folded under his cheeks to rest his head on it. Godfrey was dutifully laying on the man's feet, looking up at Chris with loyal eyes. As if he was trying to tell his owner that he'd taken good care of their guest. Tom's golden hair was curling up now that it was dry and no longer soaked in sweat or water. It was a short cut, one fit for a soldier. Chris found it to fit the man’s character… as if he knew him at all.

Chris smiled at the sight and called his pup over, setting the phials on the table where Tom would see them immediately when he woke up. He took Godfrey down the farm as he worked the fields, he needed to keep the crops coming. He had to earn enough money before winter. When the day was coming to an end, he led the animals back to their shelters and locked up before starting on dinner. He made a broth with the potatoes he'd bought and toasted bread, adding the leftover meat into the soup to add a bit more to it. It was quite pathetic, if he was being honest. But that was how he usually ate dinner- a small meal since he didn't need the energy at night anyways. He just hoped his guest wouldn't mind.

Tom woke up with a mild groan again as the smell of food started to spread through the house. There were a few pots and phials on the bedside table. Chris HAD spent his money on him. He sat up a little and looked at them. Pain relievers and a few salves to ease his aches and wounds. "Aaaahhhh..." He felt that same hip sear from laying on his side. His entire pelvis felt rattled and broken. "Damn it..." He grunted as he carefully put his hand on it in hopes of easing that feeling.

When Chris was done cooking, he ate his meal at the table, Tom would've still been asleep anyways. When he was done, he carefully filled another bowl and went up to wake the soldier. Chris entered the room and his eyes widened, making him hurry over to the man and grab his hand. "Oh gods- I'm so, so sorry. I thought you were still asleep. Damn, I'm sorry." He grabbed some of the bottles, reading through them and giving Tom the strongest one. "I'm really sorry. Should I, should I find you a healer? I don't think I did a pretty good job with the fractures."

“No... No I just twisted a bit too fast. It is not your fault." Tom said with a small smile. He tipped the bottle back and took a few drinks from it before Chris slowly helped him line his hips out again. "Ow...owowow.... Aaahhhh...." He grit his teeth and looked at the ceiling as Chris kept two hands at his hips and held him straight. "Hmmmm gods that hurts."

Chris grit his teeth, holding the man still as he panted out pained breaths. "It's okay. It's alright now." After a few minutes, Tom's tense body relaxed, the remedy seeming to take effect. "Ah... still, I'm sorry. Do you.. err, want to eat dinner now? It's getting cold." He arranged Tom so he was sitting up, pillows bracing him and keeping him as comfortable as possible. "You'll need at least a few more weeks in bed. I really am sorry if I can't do anything to speed that up."

"It's okay... It's okay." Tom nodded a bit. "It's not your fault." He said again. He gratefully ate his share of the meal and groaned a bit. "I know my recovery will be slow. It was one miracle that I lived. I doubt there will be a second miracle to heal me fast." He looked outside to get a glimpse of the farm grounds. "You'll have to show me around when I can walk again. It looks beautiful here."

"If you've noticed, there isn't really much to look at." Chris mentioned before he turned when he heard ripping noises and stood, "Godfrey no! Bad boy!" He went over and took his satchel, it had a few bite marks, but the clothes inside were untouched. He set them by Tom's feet and sat again, "I kind of ripped apart your clothing, but your armour is still intact. Well, mostly. It all really urgently had to go when I was treating you."

Tom frowned weakly when Chris put the small stack of clothes on the end of the bed. "You bought clothes... For me?" He asked weakly. Nobody ever really gave him a gift. He brushed his fingers over it. "Thank you." He was not used to this kind of interaction anymore, to kindness. The clothes he had gotten were proper too, good cotton and leather. Soft, comfortable.

Chris tilted his head in bewilderment, "Well... yeah. I wouldn't want you to walk around the house naked, now do I? And my clothes would probably keep slipping off of you, so that would pretty much be the same thing even if you wear those." He leaned back into his chair and smiled gently at the man. "Do you want to try those ointments? The lady at the store said to apply them on the spot where it hurt the most to maximize its use. I don't have anything else to do tonight anyways. And... I guess your bandages could use some changing. Will that be alright?"

Tom grunted a bit and sat right. "I guess it would be better. I can't neglect my injuries now." He rolled the blankets back a little and lay flat with the help of the other man. Godfrey lay down on his legs and Chris checked under the bandages slowly, leaning over the other to check the state of the flesh under it. Tom stayed quiet mostly and let out a grunt sometimes. He kept his eyes focused on the man that leaned over him. The man was strong, a healthy land-man. He was tanned from his many hours in the sun and his blonde hair was a tad wild. But it were his eyes that Tom found striking. Young and friendly.

Chris sighed out a relieved breath when he found the wounds no longer had angry red skin around it. A few days ago they had gotten inflamed and oozed pus again, it made Chris worry that he'd have to turn to drastic measures to prevent infection. He looked up and raised an eyebrow as he found the man staring at him. "What?"

"Nothing." Tom smiled. "I'm just trying to distract my head from minding the aches." He said. "How are they? My wounds? Nothing bad I hope..." Chris shook his head and Tom felt relieved at that. It stayed like that for the following days. Chris would do his job and spent the rest of his time humouring Tom with visits. The soldier was a bit of a stubborn man. He would catch him out of bed sometimes, trying to walk or get something rather than call Chris to do it. But Chris figured he just wanted his strength back.

A week of rest did wonders for Tom, and by the tenth day after he woke up, he was already up and moving. It worried Chris the first few days how hard-headed he was being, but in the end, he wasn't making his injuries any worse. At least he knew his limits. Today, he was working his crops as Tom sat on the porch, a few bunched up clothes he needed to wash serving as a cushion. The man was petting his steed, having insisted he see it- Chris had no qualms about it after the man had sworn not to try riding yet. By the time he finished, it was nearing noon. "I'll be heading into town again today. Anything you want me to get?"

Tom looked up, his hands still running up and down the horse's neck. He was glad to finally sniff up some air again, fresh air. He shook his head when Chris asked if he wanted anything. He wouldn't ask the man for anything. He was grateful for his clothes, his bedding, his boots. Everything. "Nothing... Maybe a haircut... But you have sheep so I guess you can manage my hair a bit as well." Tom laughed.

Chris grinned, "A blond sheep. Well would you look at that, I'm going to get my very own golden fleece." He walked over to where Tom was and plopped down beside him, wiping the sweat off his brow. "You want me to do that before or after I leave? I might be gone for three, four hours. I need to buy some seeds and restock the pantry. You'll be okay on your own?"

Tom smiled a little. "Whenever you think suits you best." He said. The horse gently nudged against his shoulder and chewed on his collar. He snorted and pushed it away, not in the mood to be drooled over by a horse. "I'll be fine. I'm still reading that book you gave me. It's a good one. Homer was a master after all.

"Later then. Also, the remedies, which ones did you say were almost finished?" Chris asked, laying on his back and looking at Tom, "I'll be selling a whole cargo load today, so you'd better list off some of the things you'll need me to buy. And don't give me any of that 'Oh you don't have to- blablablah.' Just help me cook later and we'll call it even."

Tom smiled a little and hoisted himself up to his feet with some effort. He propped the crutch under his armpit. For now he still needed it. He insisted on bringing his horse to the field himself and Chris let him. "I think I need more of that stuff that helps my bones mend." He said. "My pains are manageable with what I still have. But I use that other ointment on my fingers, my ribs and that hip every single night." He answered as he called his horse to follow along. "Go ahead... You might be late!"

Chris shook his head, "Don't overdo it Tom. I mean it." He warned before leaving, taking his own mare and saddling the cargo on. He left for the town proper then, looking to find the highest buyer for his produce and went into the stores afterwards. He was buying the few things Tom had requested when the door of the apothecary creaked open, he glanced behind him and tried not to freeze when he caught sight of Roman armour.

"We're coming for the battlefield supplies." The Roman commander said. He leaned on the countertop. "We're winning now. You might want to learn how to bow properly. Learn the name of your new king too." He watched the man go into the storage room to get the boxes. The commander turned to the other. "What of our Greek 'benefactor'?" He asked. "Oh he is still there. After that massive slaughter that took out their generals and majors he was welcomed as a hero. With him at the top of the army the Greek are lost."

Chris kept his head down as he approached the counter to pay, he didn't want to be caught up in there if ever they decided to do anything. "Oi! You didn't hear us lad? We said- learn how to bow!" The fist to his jaw wasn't expected, so when it landed, he all but fell on his ass. "Sorry, I'm sorry. Please forgive an honest merchant. I'm afraid I don't know any of your customs or how you do it." He stuttered, keeping his phials secure in his arms. He looked up to give the men a cautious look and thanked the gods when the owner came out- carrying what he could. He was an old man, so Chris hurriedly got up and went over to him, helping him with carrying. "We'll need a transport as well, and I happened to notice a good vessel outside. We only travelled here with our steeds, you see. Can't have them hauling merchandise now, can we?"

The commander looked at the phials in Chris's hands. "What do you need those for anyway?" He snorted. "You don't look like you have any broken bones." Before they could however get any ideas the shop's owner came out with a cart. "Leave the lad be. I will deliver your merchandise for you." The Roman snorted. He reached into his pocket. "One more thing peasant... Have you seen this man?" He unrolled the scroll of papyrus to show Chris a rough sketch of Tom's face. "You can be a rich dirty farmer if you happen to know where he is." Chris shook his head and they got on their horses, riding away. When they were two streets away the Roman narrowed his eyes and looked back. "He was lying."

Chris thanked the old man and paid his due, giving him a portion of the produce he still had before going home- making sure nobody was following him. When he finally got home though, the feeling of unease was still clinging heavily to him and he sat on the porch, biting on his nails as he heard the tracing of claws on wood. Godfrey- then the sound of footsteps. Tom had some explaining to do...

Tom put Abstergos in the field after Chris had left and rubbed his flank. He left the horse when it had stopped making noise and walked to Chris's shrine. He did not expect answers but he wished to at least ask Apollo why. He settled on his knees and lit a candle. He had nothing to offer that was really his so he nicked a wrist to offer his blood and cut off a lock of hair to offer the god. He shut his eyes and asked in silence, waiting for an answer.

Tom sat on his knees to call. Nothing happened though and he was about to rise when he saw his blood discolour in the bowl. It turned into an amber liquid and in the flames he found the face of a young woman. A nymph perhaps. "Your business is not done here. Your destiny is to save the Greek. The man who is with you is important. Keep him near.... And beware Thomas of those you know... There is a wolf among your sheep." The candle ceased to burn then and Tom took the bowl. Was he supposed to drink it? There was nothing there anymore. As quick as the nymph had appeared she had disappeared again as well. But the liquid was now a faint amber, and it seemed he was supposed to drink from it. Why else would it be such a clear sign? He brought it to his lips and drank. It felt warm in his throat. He could feel it spread, run through his veins. Then his bones started to shift. It hurt as they mended themselves. Godfrey started barking as he fell on the floor and gasped for air. It lasted for minutes until the pain ceased and the warmth stopped. He dared not move, the surging stopped and he felt as if everything was rattled, slowly coming back into place. He opened his eyes again and panted a bit. Slowly he got back up. He was healed. He was better. As if no blade had ever struck him. He heard Chris's cart arrive and when he got out of the shrine he found him seated on his porch. Godfrey ran to him and Tom followed. "What's wrong?" He asked at the sight of Chris's frown.

Chris continued biting on his nails until Godfrey nuzzled his snout into his hand. He shifted the nervous energy into petting the pup's fur down, the worry in his gut increasing tenfold as he noticed Tom's immaculate posture and the easy way he walked. He jumped up and took a step back, "Who are you really Tom? Is Tom even your name? What ARE you?" No man could fake what he'd seen- and no man could heal that fast either. The man had lied to him. Deceived him. A part of him insisted that he should have expected it.

Tom frowned a little when Chris jumped away from him. "What do you mean 'who am I'? My name IS Tom." Chris shook his head a little and pointed at him. "They are looking for you. They say you are worth a lot." Tom was a bit taken aback then. Looking for him? Chris was talking about Romans. "Oh gods... Did you tell them about me?" He felt his gut clench. Chris shook his head. "Why are they looking for you Tom?" Tom rubbed his face. "I- I am not a cavalry soldier... I'm general. First general. The battle I came from cost the lives of all high commanders and superiors. They must have found out I was not among the bodies..." Chris looked at him. "Why would you lie?" "Because I couldn't trust you yet! I woke up in a stranger's house! I knew not if you had saved me in hopes of a reward or out of kind. And when I knew you were a good man I no longer thought it mattered... But I have not lied a word about anything! I am a man like you... Why Apollo saved me I know not... Not yet. But he has plans for me... I am not a deceiver Chris."

Chris felt his mouth pulling down at the sides. Not necessarily a frown, but the sort you see in children when they were upset. He was such a child. "Well... why didn't you tell me afterwards..? Why wait until I found out myself..?" He shook his head then- it didn't matter. He didn't even have a reason to feel betrayed. The man wasn't his friend- not even an acquaintance. Only... only Chris thought he was. No matter- he'd dealt with this kind of situation plenty of times. "Know what, never mind- it's okay. You're okay now, aren't you? Favoured by the gods and all.. you should be on your way tomorrow. I'm sure they'll have plans laid out for you- and your army- your men... they'll be looking for you. You'll need to find them and lead them- not to mention that traitor they were talking about still out and at it."

“They spoke of a traitor?" Tom asked. Remembering the nymph's warning about a wolf. "Did you hear a name?" He shook his head. "No sorry, it doesn’t matter now. I hurt your trust. Chris... I consider our bond something good. I do not know if we were friends yet... But I never meant to hurt you. I wronged you by making the mistake of thinking my rank mattered not. I'm sorry." He put his hand on Chris's shoulder. "I am." He stood up straight and expected to wince at aches but of course... They were no longer there. "Please give me a shot to make you trust me again. I value your presence." He tried.

Chris shook his head. This could mean trouble for him. Big trouble. If anyone found out about Tom- if they even suspected him of aiding one of the Greek soldiers, he'd have hell to pay. Stupid, stupid, stupid! This was exactly why he needed to stay away from people. People meant trouble. Always. Why didn't he just settle with his farm and his animals? And he wasn't one for reading people, but his gut was churning- there was something the man wasn't telling him again. "I... I don't want any trouble. Just.. please. If you are well enough I want you to.. to leave by sunrise." He looked away when he said this, the man lied to him once- he didn't know if the man in his sincerity was telling the truth, or just looking for a place to camp out in. He didn't want to risk being found by the Romans or even his fellow Greek brethren.

Tom let out a bit of a sigh. Oh he had blew it for real now. “Chris please, I did not mean to lie or hurt you- I swear upon the gods-”he stopped as he heard a thundering far away. He looked up. "Where is my sword? Chris where is my equipment?" Chris pointed at the barn and looked at Tom in confusion. Tom pulled Chris along. "What did you tell them?" "Nothing." "What did they ask?" Chris had to get used to the sudden change in the man's demeanour. Quick and to the point. "If I had seen you. I said no." Tom looked at his face, there was no lie on it. "Saddle your horse." "Why?" "They are coming. Get what you can save and listen to me." Tom grabbed his belt from the stock room and put it on with skilled hand. He fished up the rest of his armour and ushered Chris to do as asked again.

Chris followed the man's instructions without question, not even getting the chance to go back inside to pack some clothes. All he managed to bring were some of the supplies he'd bought, the medicines that were in his satchel, and an oil lamp. He grabbed Godfrey by his scruff when he got on his horse and then he and Tom were racing towards the safety of the trees beyond the river. The hooves of their horses pounded on the soil and Tom was quick to guide them to a place out of sight. When they were a good few yards away, he stopped his horse and looked back- seeing smoke faintly rising from his home. His home. It was burning. It was gone now. Tom's voice brought him back and spurred them into moving again, putting more distance between them and their pursuers. When their horses started protesting, they stopped, and Chris acknowledged for the first time since getting up and going into that frenzy of panic that he was now homeless. "That was... that place was all I had. It was all I had."

Tom got off his horse and took Godfrey from Chris. "I am so sorry." He said as he looked up at the man. "I am so sorry." He helped Chris off his horse and bound them to the trees. The farmer was eerily quiet, overcome by the shock and the real truth of what he had witnessed. "Hey... It's hard... But, we can't go back there now... Did you free the animals as I asked?" Chris nodded. Tom regarded him shortly and looked at the sun. It was setting already, late afternoon. "You gather wood and try to light a fire... I'll see if I can get something to eat." He handed Chris the knife in the seam of his boot. "If you hear anything you run. If it's me I will say your name." He said before he grabbed his cutlass and headed into the woods somewhat farther in hopes of finding them a meal. Tomorrow he would take them to the strong-hold. The underground base where the Greek would have retreated to after the attack. He just hoped, prayed that Hadley survived and took over his command. Hadley would keep them alive until he could join them.

Chris felt himself move without really being aware of it, and by the time he'd gathered enough wood he just sat down and stared at the pile. It was nearing dark when he heard rustling in the bushes and Tom's voice call out before he could react to it. The man looked at him with an exasperated expression and huffed as he set down the rabbits he'd caught. Chris felt a mild surge of anger at the man- he had the nerve to get annoyed? But as soon as it came- it deflated. He watched silently and despondently as Tom started a fire, then clean his kill. What the hell was he supposed to do now? He had no family- nowhere else to go- he doubted he'd be able to live anywhere in one place anymore. The life he'd worked so hard to get was gone. All because he did a kindness to a man that didn't even trust him. The gods must have been laughing at his predicament right now.

Tom used some oil from the lamp to put on the fire and got it started. It had been a good long while since he had done those things himself, make fire and hunt for food. "Chris... I- I can't really make up for what I cost you... But please come to the stronghold with me... I can at least keep you safe there. You do not have to fight." He cut the meat on the rabbits into filets and put them on a stone before placing it in the fire, making a nest with it to accommodate the flesh. "Christopher..." The man didn't acknowledge him and he stayed silent then, carefully poking up the fire every now and then he opened his saddle-bag and took the blanket. "You'll need it more than I." He said as Chris still looked down. "Please."

Chris bit his lip and took Godfrey into his arms, holding the pup close. He shook his head and felt the tight knot in his chest grow just that slightest bit. "What am I going to do now..?" His voice came out oddly quiet, lost. It made him doubt it was even his own. He looked up at Tom then, his brows furrowing. "Why would I want to go with you? You'll keep me safe... win the war.. and then what?" He looked away again, squeezing Godfrey until he started whimpering. He tried to breathe evenly, but all he could think about now was that he was stuck with this man, having left his home to be razed to the ground by the people that pursued them, and said man was now asking him to go to who-knows-where to hide. He didn't know how in the hell was he supposed to react to this.

Tom put the blanket over the man's shoulders as he kneeled in front of him. "I know it's hard-" "DO YOU?!" Bellowed Chris then. "How could you possibly know what it's like to be torn from all you have and just roll with it?!" Tom stood up then and blinked a few times, an expression on his face as if he had been burned. "I know better than you'd think..." He mumbled. Godfrey whined softly and settled near the fire. "I'm going for more wood." Tom said, his head bowed. "Keep an eye on our food." He disappeared between the trees once again, leaving just the silence to Chris to think in.

When Chris was sure he was alone, he let a few silent tears make tracks down his face before angrily wiping them away. He called the pup over again and held him close as he sat near the fire. The gods must have hated him. It seemed fortune didn't favour fools. Chris looked towards where Tom had left and patiently waited for him to come back, he was the one who seemed to know where to go, after all, and Chris would be damned if he was going to die by being eaten by wolves or bears or something. He'd rather throw himself onto a guillotine.

Tom returned after a while. He looked a little dishevelled and sweaty. But he said nothing so Chris figured he wasn't getting an explanation on it. He sat on the log opposing Chris and used a stick to push the stone out of the fire. "Where's the wood?" Chris asked. Tom looked up. "Sorry?"

"The wood... You said you were going to get more. That's why you left." Tom closed his eyes and sighed. "Sorry. I said that to be alone." He explained. "We have plenty of wood." He grabbed two large leaves and cleaned them off before dividing the meat over them, handing Chris one leaf and taking the other for himself. The bones and left-overs he threw to the dog to eat clean.

Chris ate his share gratefully, then looked at Tom with a bit of regret. He felt guilty for making the man feel bad... he was trying. He heaved a sigh and stood up to sit next to the soldier- general... man, he looked too young to be a general. "I don't mind having to share. Besides, we need to keep warm."

Tom looked up at Chris and when the man smiled a bit he gingerly took the tip of the blanket and pulled it over his shoulder. It was silent again. The only sounds the cracking of the fire and the dog munching away on the left-overs. "Where is your family? You lived alone at the farm... Do they live elsewhere? Or are they... Gone?"

Chris licked his lips, suddenly feeling like his throat had gone dry. "I bought the place when the war first started. I wanted to have a place away from the cities and towns. Just a place of our own. I wanted to set it up first and made sure that when they moved in, everything would be settled. A surprise, you could say." He heaved a deep breath when he said the next part, "They never got to see it. I was away for two days... two days. I was making final preparations and I was going to bring them there then. Imagine my shock when I found our town in ruins. If I try hard enough, I can still smell the charred wood and the stench of rotten burnt flesh." He shuddered then, "I couldn't even distinguish who was whom.. my father.. brothers.. the women they hung on stakes, and I have no doubt they must have violated them before burning them too. Even the little ones. And there I thought they came preaching about discipline or something..."

Tom let out a soft 'oh' and stared into the fire. "I'm sorry for asking... I had no idea." He patted Chris's knee awkwardly. He wasn't a cold heart. But the army wasn't a place to give comfort. Chris could tell Tom was fully integrated there though. He had the tells. Even when he sat and was at ease he did with a certain kind of tenseness and awareness. When he ate he did not look at his food or fingers but into the woods to keep constant eye on the environment. But he could also tell Tom was gentler. He was sincere in his conversations and intentions and was mostly calm and humble. Tom poked up the fire some more with his boot and kept tearing of chunks of meat with his fingers. "You must really hate the war... Given what it cost you... We all do. We all hate it. But you saw how the Romans go about their 'business'. They are no men. They are beasts."

Chris smiled wanly, shifting his boots against the forest floor. "It's alright. I... I've come to terms with it.. somewhat." Because nobody could really come to terms with what he'd seen- what he'd lost. What everyone continued to lose. "And yes... I do hate the war. And I'm afraid of it. That's why I never... well... that's why I didn't involve myself in it. But that's the past now. There's only one way we can continue moving and it's forward. What about you? What's your story?"

Tom scratched his nose a bit. "Mmm no." He shook his head. "I don't... Can't..." He sighed and tossed the leaf when he had finished his food. Chris looked at him in disappointment. Tom felt a bit guilty for that but could not bring a word to his lips to tell. "Why not?" Asked Chris as he was staring in the fire for too long. "I don't know..." "Yes you do..." He looked back at Chris and the other gazed back apprehensively. He was looking at his eyes, which were gleaming with tears and he didn't care they were there. His superiors would whack him on the head and hit until your eyes were dry. "I was a fool... You at least could not help it... I was the reason my family was taken." He said. "I can't tell because I can't live with it... It's so much easier to not remember."

Chris let out a huff then, pulling his knees to his chest as he stared at the embers again. The wood crackled under the heat, and he sighed. "Fine..." he mumbled into his forearms, resting them on top of his knees. He'd thought... ah, well... he was naive like that, some would say. He and Tom weren't friends or 'bonded'. The man was a general for goodness sake! And he was just a lowly farmer. No, he wasn't even that anymore. The heaviness was back, and Chris decided to just close his eyes to ward it off. Thinking about simpler days- happier days.. how he wished he could go back to those memories.

Tom watched as Chris started to drift off. The man sagged his head on his shoulder and breathed deep. Tom stared in the fire and gently lay Chris to sleep on the ground. Godfrey joined Chris there and Tom stayed awake, keeping the fire burning. He wondered if it would help to talk. That tale he had kept in was still part of him, even if he tried to supress it as well as he could. Well Chris was asleep. He could just as well... If he broke down then... Nobody would know. He looked at the man's back. "As a boy I was brash. I had no ideas about consequences, conflicts. One day there came a long row to our city. A Greek convoy. The king was visiting. We did as asked and came to pay our respects. From the boys a few were chosen, to fight for the palace. I was not one of them. I stepped up towards the throne and stood to face the king. I told him I was good enough. That he was blind. He said in turn that my heart was too kind. That I would never be able to kill. He sent me away. I should have left it at that. Instead I did something especially stupid. The next day when they were at the square I found a guard of the king and I killed him. To prove myself. Me and my family were arrested and put away to die. That morning the king recognized me between my family. He halted and said; ‘have you killed for me child?’ I answered in turn that I had. I was to come down from the gallows. ‘You are brave boy. I have mistaken your fire.’ Said the king. ‘Now let me help you to take away what holds your strength back.’ And my entire family was hanged." He folded his hands in his lap and let out a shaky breath, unaware of Chris's open eyes that stared in the fire as he listened.

Chris blinked and sighed. He looked up at Tom and saw his horrified expression, he hadn't expected him to be awake. "I guess the Romans aren't the only beasts, huh..?" He mumbled, pulling Godfrey closer to his chest. "You didn't know either you know. It wasn't your fault... your heart thought you were in the right." He nudged Tom with his leg and closed his eyes, "You need some rest as well. Just put out the fire and settle near me- that way we won't attract any attention, it isn't too cold yet anyways. Besides, Godfrey may not look it yet, but he is a trained hunting dog, only eight months old. He'll be able to wake us if there is any trouble nearing."

Tom stared a bit and inclined his head. From that day on he had fought with the violence and hate in his body for what happened. He had gotten his acceptance and confirmation. He was the best. He was general. And it still felt hollow. The king who had wronged him was long dead now. His new king however... Was just the same. It felt wrong to fight for such men. Tom fought for the people. And that was what he taught his soldiers to do as well. And he had faith that maybe one day he would come across a good, fair king. He shook his head a little. "Just sleep up. I'll take watch." He put out the fire and waited for his eyes to adjust to the dark. Chris was asleep within the hour. Tom noticed it from the change in his breathing. He stayed up for a good long while, but without notice he fell asleep on the log somewhere before dawn, sleeping half draped over the wood still when Chris woke up again by morning. Godfrey was licking at his face, that's what woke Chris up. The dog wanted to be fed.

Chris grumbled to himself and slowly sat up. He was confused for a bit to see himself surrounded by trees, but it came back to him when he saw Tom sprawled awkwardly between the log he'd been sitting on and the floor. He got up and draped the blanket over the man's form, easing him down. Godfrey whined and started nibbling on his boots, and his stomach was beginning to grumble as well. Tom had hunted for them last night.... he should hunt their breakfast. He decided to give it a try and took the knife the man had given him, standing up from his kneeling position, how hard could it be... right?


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> comments are much appreciated :3

**Chapter 3.**

Tom woke up from a throbbing ache in his neck. He had most definitely slept wrong. He was on the forest floor, blanket around his shoulders. He could not remember taking it from Chris... He let out a groan and sat up, expecting to find the other snoring a few paces away, but Chris wasn't there. Tom realised then that Chris had woken up before him. But where had he gone? Hopefully nothing bad happened. Or did he leave him? He looked to the side but the horses were still both there. He got on his feet and stretched a bit before picking up his cutlass. "Chris?" He called out, hoping it was just nothing.

Chris dove for another rabbit again, but only managed to get more dirt and muck on himself as it effortlessly hopped away. Gods... and he thought chasing chickens was hard! He groaned, then looked at Godfrey wagging his tail. "Yeah? And what are you so happy about? This will be your breakfast too you know..." the pup tilted its head and he let out a huff. Chris stood again and dusted himself off, then looked around to see if he could get anything else- rabbits were hard. Maybe if he could find the stream he'd seen earlier... then he wouldn't have to go back to camp empty-handed. Or he could look for camp and admit to Tom that he couldn't catch anything. Or he could just admit that he was lost and call out- but that was a last resort because there were people looking for them. "You woke the wrong guy. You should've just eaten the bread but nooooo- you wanted meat! Now we're both lost and I'm hungry now too!"

Tom rustled through the trees and stopped when he heard voices to his right. He moved through the trees effortlessly and burst out into the opening with his sword drawn. Chris let out a faint yell and stumbled back a bit. Tom let out a sigh of relief and sheeted the cutlass. "New rule. Nobody leaves without telling the other. Something could have happened to you." He held out a hand and helped Chris up, finally seeing the state he was in. The man's grey cotton shirt was completely covered in dirt down the front. It was even in his hair and on his chin. "What did you do?" He asked with some amusement. "Hunt... But they're all laughing at me." Tom snickered a little. "Ah... Well, follow me, we are quite a few paces from camp. We should get back there first and worry about food on the way there." He patted Chris's back and smiled. "Just don't leave on your own like that."

"Stop it. I was trying to... do I look that pathetic?" Chris pouted, "Just don’t...  and quite a few paces? How much is that in your book?" He flushed and covered it up by rubbing his face exasperatedly as Tom led the way back towards their camp. “Half a mile.” He kept looking at the man and tried not to slow him down too much. "Err... where will we be going again? I figured we should just.. you know.. stick together. I don't really have anywhere else to go anyways."

Tom halted so Chris would be beside him. "The strong-hold. I told my second in command Hadley, that he should go there after a major blow. To regroup and rethink our strategies." He hopped over a dead tree and looked around in hopes to see some prey. "The strong-hold was carved into the seawalls at the bay of Athens. Made when we fought the Persians. It will keep us safe and from there we should be able to trick the Romans and take them down." He put his hand on Chris's chest to stop him and beckoned him silence as he found a boar grazing nearby. It was still a young one, quite small. He signed Chris to stay put and inched closer. When he figured he was near enough he made a run for it and leaped to the startled animal. It squealed when Tom planted the cutlass in its body and it took one twist of his blade for it to fall limp and bleed out on the ground. "Breakfast.... And lunch probably."

Chris grinned and helped Tom carry the kill back eagerly. He was smiling all the way, then he paused, a thought popping into his head. The man stopped as well and looked back at him, "Chris?" He shook his head, "Are you.. well... they talked about a traitor. The Romans I encountered talked about a traitor. How can you be sure about any of your men then? How can you be sure that they haven't already ratted out on this stronghold?"

"They would not... They will be at the stronghold. See, the Romans know where it is. There is one way in, one way out. Our rat would have to come along to hear the new strategies. But he can't go out without being suspected and killed. Nobody leaves without anyone knowing. Nobody comes without anyone knowing. The rat will be trapped in there, waiting for the right moment to head out and tell the plans. We'll be good." Tom groaned and dropped the boar on the ground of the campsite as they returned. "As a farmer you must know how, so help me cut this one up. We should only carry around the meat, the bones are useless weight. And the organs are gross. Give them to your dog." He started on his side of the animal and paused to build a fire again to cook their meat.

Chris rolled his eyes, but complied without complaining. When he was done, he handed Tom the meat and heated the innards a bit before giving them to Godfrey. He still didn't feel comfortable with Tom, not fully anyways- but he had no choice but to follow the man if he wanted to get back to civilization. "Will... will your allies take well to me? I wouldn't want to be a burden. And I thought living under the army's roofs meant earning my place there?"

Tom shook his head a little. "No... They won't be hostile. You're Greek. You're a gain. And your care for me was well. You could take care of our wounded if you wish to make yourself useful."  He gathered all the meat on another large leaf and wrapped it into a package before burying it in the fire. He scratched the dog's ears when it came to him and smiled a little. "You are with me. If I tell them you are staying nobody would be as dim as to object. They respect me."

Chris let out a snort as he sat down again, crossing his legs under him. "How old are you exactly? I just don't see battle hardened generals and veterans stepping down in the chain of command to a face like yours." He stiffened when Tom looked at him angrily and he stuttered to explain, "I-I mean- I meant you just look a bit young, you know? For- for a general- I didn't mean anything else by it- just that your face is very pleasant to the eye and not full of scars and rugged and- I meant- yeah that was what I meant. You look very young is all."

"You should work on how it SOUNDS what you say. I worked hard to get where I am." Tom scoffed. Chris apologized again and he let it go. "I'm 29." He answered eventually. "Not as young as you'd think." He kept busy by putting more branches on the fire as their meat cooked. Godfrey started chasing some of the bugs that woke to the morning air and they only watched to make sure the dog would not wander. "I was driven. I could not undo what happened to my family... All I could do is go on with what they died for. And since it can't fill the void I just lost myself in beating everything. Because if you fight you don't have to think... It was easier like that."

Chris frowned, wringing his hands together. He needed to work on his people skills, it seemed. Years of self-induced isolation did that. "How can you say it's easier? To take away other people's lives... isn't it a bit.. I don't know- don't you feel guilty afterwards? How many... how many men have you killed?"

"I don't know... I never said I was being logical... You just. It makes you numb. The killing. It makes you feel less. How many people died by my blade I know not... It was wrong of me to think in that manner but I am a good general. A capable soldier. And fighting to defend the people of Greece is not something I regret." Tom  took the package out of the fire and checked their meat, it was just starting to cook. He took it out of the fire and wrapped it up extra. It would continue to cook in the packet and leave them warm meat to eat. "We should eat some bread now and get out of the woods. By noon we can stop to eat some of this." He said as he stood up and put out the fire.

Chris chewed on his cracked lips and nodded, helping Tom with whatever he could before they set off again. They set off again and the travel was filled with an awkward silence, only broken by the occasional chirping of birds overhead or Godfrey's yapping when he found something interesting. He didn't know what to make of Tom. On one hand, he seemed like a pretty alright guy, but Chris just couldn't get over the fact that he'd so willingly slay his enemies. He didn't think he could do it if it came to that... lives weren't his to take. No matter how angry he was with the Romans for taking his own family, he didn't think he'd be able to do it. To get even... and how Tom so casually put it was unnerving.

Around noon they were riding the plains of Athens and Tom stopped their horses on a higher point so he could keep an eye on their surroundings. He tied the horses to a bush and took out their food. It was still mildly glowing with warmth and that made it more pleasant to eat their shares. He had no material to put up for conversation so he kept silent. But it felt as if the man was judging him. He kept looking at him with slightly narrowed eyes. As if he was assessing him by the things he knew. Tom however could not care for what he would think of him in the end. He was who he was. And he was not ashamed of that man.

Chris ate his fill and gave a bit to Godfrey, he couldn't resist the thing. He sighed as they were both done, the horses needed to rest a bit before they set off, and he wasn't particularly in a rush either. Tom was, maybe- but he couldn't bring himself to share the other man's plans. He still doubted if he'd be welcome there among soldiers. The man had said it himself, he was too soft to be one of them.

Tom wandered up and down a bit as Chris took his rest, playing with his dog. He somehow felt jealous of him. Of how clean he still was. Chris was still innocent and good. He was tainted and ruined. He somehow felt anxious to be his friend someday. Maybe it would put something better in him again. But for now Chris did not seem to share that feeling so he stayed rather quiet and distant. He swayed his cutlass a bit, hacking in the air, deep in thought. He felt out of his element when he wasn't near his army. Near Hadley and his comrades. It was like he was a part of himself that he had not been in a while and that part felt rusty and awkward.

Chris looked up when and stared as Tom started slashing through the air. Almost immediately, he felt a bit of fear. If Tom's comrades decided he could not be trusted, would they slaughter him like a pig? Would they lock him up? The idea of getting away suddenly had a very nice ring to it. He bit his lips, which were already raw from all the nibbling he'd done earlier. He reached for Godfrey and sat watching, the blade gleaming whenever it caught light. How easy it would be to kill with it. "Will you teach me how to wield a blade?" He called out, then fought the urge to flinch when the soldier turned to him. "I mean... if I need to defend myself or something."

Tom swished the cutlass one more time and sheeted it. "If that would make you happy. I could yes..." he answered before walking back again and sitting beside Chris again. "You're afraid of me." he said rather than asked. "That I'll kill you. Or maybe not me but that I will get you killed." He stared ahead over the fields instead of looking at Chris. "It's as if... when I told you what I was... When I entrusted you with what I have done... You've only moved farther. But minus the lethal injuries I am just the same guy you spent a good three weeks with. Why can't I be both to you?" he looked at Chris then. "I would admit it easily... You've become a friend to me. If not a friend than at least someone I trust and I am grateful... For all your care." He rubbed his face. This wasn't what he was good at. "Point is... I would never take you somewhere or force you into anything I think would put you in danger. I believe the strong hold is safe. And like me, my men are all just that... Men. They are no animals and nobody will hurt you... In fact, it kind of hurts that you think we are."

Chris looked down at his lap and shifted a bit. "I'm sorry. You shouldn't take offense to it, really. I'm like this with everyone." He explained, hoping it was enough to make up for it. "And I'm not afraid of you. Well.. maybe. I don't know. It's... I don't know, Tom. I'm not afraid of you, or your men or death. It's... I'm afraid of pain, okay? Of the possibility of getting hurt." He looked at Tom then, searching for a reassurance that he wasn't mad or disappointed. "I really am sorry. I'm grateful that you put up with me. I don't mean to make you feel that way, truly."

Tom nodded a bit and played with the clasps of his belt. "All I'm trying now is to get you to a place where you'll be as safe from that as possible. That's all I'm doing. And you live in a country that's at war, there is no place that is completely safe. But I do believe that your best odds are in the strong-hold." he still felt that sting a little that Chris actually thought him and his men as a threat.  Even if he did not mean for it. "That nymph I told you about... She said I must keep you near... She said you were important. The gods have plans for you, and that means you will have to face their tests probably." he stood again and untied his horse. "We should go, we could make it to the gate by sundown."

"The only god I'll ever be in debt to is Demeter. She has been my only ally ever since they decided to toy with my life." Chris said with a bit of a grunt. He grabbed Tom's arm, opening and closing his mouth, "I.. you don't need to take care of me Tom. I've managed up until this point and if my time comes, then it will come. You don't need to protect me and you don't owe me anything. You know that, right?"

"I know that you have saved my life. With or without Apollo's blessing, it was you who saved me. I am returning you that favour..." Tom secured the saddle again and put their remaining meat in the bag. He turned then. "And... I thought we got along. And it's been a while since I really got along with somebody. Not for my rank but as equals with mutual respect. So... I might even, consider you a friend, or at least getting there." He mounted Abstergos and started out, waiting for Chris's mare to catch up and follow behind him. It was the truth as well. The weeks he'd spent with Chris on the farm had been good weeks, that remembered him of a time long past where he would play in the gardens with his sisters or go fishing with his father.

"Well... just try not repaying that favour with your own life." Chris mumbled under his breath, spurring his own horse to match Tom's stallion. "And do you truly mean it? Are we.. do you really consider me as an equal?" He chuckled then, "And seriously, if it wasn't for Apollo favouring you, I couldn't have done anything other than provide a roof over your head and a bed to sleep on."

"Calm your mouth lest it may fall off." Tom chuckled a bit as Chris rattled on. "Yes, I mean it. I am oddly drawn to your person..." He smirked a little at Chris's riding skills, a bit unrefined. "And maybe I would indeed have passed if it were not for that fortunate blessing, but at least you had tried to your best extent and that is what matters most, your heart's intention to save me." he turned a little in the saddle. "And you fed my horse too, not to forget that."

Chris let out a startled laugh at that, his fit turning into giggles as it started to taper off. "Of course. You should never forget about me feeding the horse, else you'd be walking now." He sputtered when Godfrey started licking his face and leaned away slightly. "Drawn to my person huh.. maybe it's my devilishly good looks."

"Mmm don't flatter yourself too much now. You're not all that attractive with all that mud still plastered all over your front." Tom looked back smugly. Chris looked down in a way that Tom could tell the man had completely forgotten about his dirty appearance. "Worry not, you can wash up when we get there. My men have seen muddier." he slowed a bit for Chris to join him again. "But maybe it is you that tries to distance himself from all that gorgeousness he can't handle sitting on this horse." he laughed at it himself. "What was it you said this morning? That I wasn't unpleasant to the eyes was it?"

"T-that was just because you looked angry! I mean- well.. well- yeah okay.. you aren't exactly UN-pleasant to look at but..." Chris stuttered, then looked at Tom who wore a smirk on his face. "Oh, wipe that look off of your face." He huffed, trying in vain to scrub away at the dirt that clung to his clothes without jostling too much. "We can judge who looks prettier when I'm clean. You'll be sorry, you'll see."

Tom snickered and tossed Chris his water-bottle to clean up a little. "I highly doubt it." he called as he took some distance again. Chris did no longer indulge in their banter and they returned to the comfortable silence again. When the sun started to colour the skies gold and red they could see the sea, vast and peaceful. They still had to take the cliff-road to the beach but they were nearly there. Before they started their decent they ate some more and they went on on foot, with the horses behind them. Godfrey was running ahead, stopping every time to wait up for them. Slowly the sun sank deeper and deeper, casting longer shadows and creating increasingly more dramatic scenes. It was luckily still pleasantly warm, even now that the sun was fading. Tom was however happy that the grey shirt he was given had nice long sleeves and a high, broad collar to keep him a bit more warm than his armour would have.

Chris put a hand to the cliff side as they descended, it was quite steep, and with Tom leading the way with the oil lamp, he had to be careful where he stepped. He felt the unease again as he saw the faint outlines in the distance, there were grooves embedded at some points, and Chris vaguely wondered if Tom's soldiers were merely waiting to confront them. "Nobody will open fire on us... right? Where are we headed anyways?"

"Christopher, for heaven's sake just trust me." Tom grumbled as he pulled his horse along when it started to protest a bit. "When we get to the beach we will head to that gap over there, the gates are imbedded in the crease. They will open them for us and we'll put our horses into the stables. Then there will be stairs, large, broad stairs that lead down into the bellows of the cliff and there will be magnificent halls, filled with soldiers and weaponry, maps, armour. You might find it terrifying, but even you could not deny the beauty of that citadel."

"Fine, fine I'll shut up." Chris mumbled, feeling a bit put off as they walked on. He could hear the waves crashing in the distance and thought about asking Poseidon to spare him if it ever went awry, but he couldn't even bring himself to do that. His heart was thudding and he didn't want to be here. He didn't, he didn't, he didn't- but he couldn't turn back now and he trusted Tom- trusted him even just that teeniest, tiniest bit. When he could make out the outlines of the massive gates he felt his skin tingle. What if they didn't let him in? What if they forced him to be one of them? Oh gods- what if they forced him to kill? What if the traitor knew his face and decided to kill him when he slept under their roofs? What if- what if- what- "Chris!" He snapped out of his thoughts and looked up at Tom, "Wha-?"

Tom flicked the man's head. "I can practically hear you despairing in that thick skull of yours." He raised his fist and knocked in a specific pace. A hatch was pulled open in the door on eye-level. "Where did you learn that knock?" it came from the other end. Tom stepped in front of the gate and smiled a little. "I taught you." The eyes that looked through the hatch widened and the gates started to creak as they moved open. "General!" called the soldier. "We thought you dead." He nodded and put his horse away, signing the stable-boys to unsaddle his and Chris's horse. "And? Him?" Tom grabbed Chris's shoulder. "He's the reason I still live and breathe. It cost him his house..." the soldier saluted the new man shortly. "Where is Hadley?" "Below. He will be mind-blown."

Chris stood awkwardly to the side as Tom and his subordinate conversed and almost jumped when the man grabbed his shoulder. "Sorry." He went down with Tom and followed him through winding corridors, a few men greeted the blond man, saluting him and welcoming him back. Tom led him to a map room, where there was another man who fussing over the table with clay statues. "Hadley."

Hadley turned and felt his eyes widen at the sight of Tom, so he was indeed, still alive. He walked over to the man and clasped his shoulders, squeezing them a bit and giving him a rough shake. "It is good to see you well my friend. Who is this though? A recruit? Or perhaps a prisoner?"

Tom held Hadley near and shook him a bit with a large grin. "It's good to be back." he took a look at the maps quickly, it looked good. "Chris is our guest of honour. He saved my life." Hadley nodded and gave Chris a nod. Tom patted his comrade's shoulder and turned to Chris. "You must be tired, let me help you find a room." Hadley overheard and told Tom that he would gladly give up his room to Tom. Tom waved him off a moment, saying Chris would just need a moment with him and that he would be back later. He took Chris to the stairs and they spiralled up towards the rooms above the chart-room. The windows looked out over it. He opened the master's chamber. Hadley had occupied it, only to sleep so it seemed. But it was a large room, large bed against the back wall. "I could have another bed moved in and you can stay here with me. It would give you some privacy in this place."

Chris couldn't explain the relief he felt at Tom's offer and he just nodded mutely, taking a seat on one of the chairs. "What happens now? Will you go back to fight again?" He looked down at his clothes and scrunched his nose up a bit. "May I borrow some of those clothes? I feel filthy now..." He asked hopefully. Hadley.. Tom's second in command looked... there was something off-putting about the man. "Hey, your lieutenant- how long have you two known each other?"

Tom chuckled a little and gathered up Hadley's things before he put them in the hallway and had Chris take off his filthy clothes. "I'll pick up something from the barracks below. I'll be right back." Then Chris asked the question of how long he'd known the other by now. "Hadley? We were trained in the same group. He was promising but not ambitious enough. But he is a capable leader, just lacks a bit of weight you know? Conviction." He pulled up the sheets and fashioned the bed.

Chris smiled and thanked the man again before he left. When he was alone, he kicked off his boots and placed them neatly on the rack before taking off his shirt as well, leaving him only in his shorts. There was still that nagging feeling in his gut, that something was amiss. Still, he had Tom, and as long as the man was there then he'd be fine... right?

Tom headed down and picked up a few clothes from the barracks. When he got back up Chris was sitting in the chair, chewing on his nails. "There you go, crispy clean and hopefully your size too." he smiled and put the clothing on the bed. "So we should have you sleep up. You weren't made for being dragged through the wilderness and stuff." he started to take off his own clothes for they'd gone sweaty and put on his own clothes.

Chris changed quickly into the clothes Tom had picked out for him and thanked the man again as he stood to the side. Tom gestured to the bed and he looked at it apprehensively. "For the love of god Christopher stop being so high-strung." Chris chuckled nervously and walked over to sit down. "What about you? You need to rest as well."

Tom shrugged a little and looked out. "Well I guess Hadley can do without me for another night." he said. Hadley was discussing stuff with Sting. He did not like Sting. The man was actually cold, completely cold. Very calculating. But Sting was a really good fighter, quickest he'd ever seen. He got on the edge. "Do you want me to get a different bed?"

"Ah, no. That'll be fine. I can just scoot over here." Chris replied, edging away from the middle and giving Tom some space. "I hope you don't mind though, I tend to kick. And smack... and bite." He said sheepishly, tying his hair up. It had gotten long enough to make a small bunched up thing. "Thank you Tom. For your caring. I don't think I've said that yet."

Tom smiled a little. "Ah well, kicking and smacking I am used to more than enough. Biting is a new one though, try not to eat my fingers." he snickered and wrapped himself up in his share of blankets. When Chris thanked him he just shrugged a little. "That's okay... You did the same for me. In your own way." he turned on his side and closed his eyes to drift off. He was actually still fairly tired.

When Chris was sure that Tom was asleep, only then did he let himself relax and calm down. He stared up at the ceiling before closing his eyes and finally letting sleep claim him. To say his dreams were unpleasant was an understatement.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> please leave a comment or review :)

Hadley frowned. He poured over the map again and tapped his fingers on the places he'd marked. With Tom alive, many problems could arise. He'd have to convince the stubborn fool to go with his plans somehow.

As Hadley stood there another man sauntered over to him. "Well this screws up the plans a bit." the other put it lightly. "Tell me about it." Hadley growled. "Thomas will fuck everything up with his 'better' plans. We're done." The other shrugged a little, leaning on the table casually. "Unless Thomas were to unfortunately fall in the hands of the Romans on a scout-out. You barely escape with your life, but alas it was too late to save poor, poor brave general Tom."

"Mmh... wouldn’t that be too obvious? The only ones who'd be able to get information about scouting missions right now are Tom and I, and a few of the soldiers he'll handpick. It won't be easy." Hadley retorted, indeed- it would be hard to slip unnoticed in a company of five or six.

The other shook his head and grabbed the map. "Trust me. You can take Tom to show him where the enemy has moved to and update him on the stats. So you head out, take his pet as well and just serve them right up to the Romans. They will do the rest." He grabbed Hadley's arm. "Lay low for a while too and then you can return the hero. And Thomas will be dead."

Hadley snorted, "I suppose we could do that... our only problem would then be convincing our dear general for a four man scout. And convince him to bring that extra mouth to feed along as well." Hadley hummed, "He'll most definitely bring Ben. Ben or Quentin. Those were his only direct subordinates that survived the ambush. He'll leave one or the other in charge if Tom agrees to the plan. You think you can keep whichever from coming after us or sending rescue teams?"

Sting smirked a little. "You take Ben with you, get him killed. Quentin is easy. He is Italian, Roman... By birth. I can frame that man for the whole thing, make him the rat. And guess who's general then? And who will get dirty, dirty rich after this whole thing." He stood and walked away as if they had discussed breakfast.

Hadley smiled as Sting stood up to leave. "Excellent. You make sure that nobody leaves the stronghold before I get back. We'll need to work on a reason why the freeloader needs to come."

Sting shrugged. "There is one little thing though that makes no sense." Hadley looked up from the maps and made a face. "What?" The redhead shook his head. "You are supposedly his best friend and you had not even noticed? His hair. It's blond. Not just blond, gold. He could have dyed it to stay anonymous... But we should keep an eye on it."

Hadley looked thoughtful for a moment and then waved it off, "Whatever the reason, he will still die. He is only just a man. And every man dies. Some just need a little help getting there."

Sting shrugged again and left again to take up his rest. He had allegiance to nobody. Sting was a survivor. He nestled at the side of those with the best odds and made sure to get in their favour. That was his life his way. It was what made him dangerous.

Tom slept calmly and in perfect control. He could sleep without a twitch or move, which was a battle-trait. Chris however... Yes that was another story. He woke Tom up six times with his sleeping habits. Each time startling the man from his dreams with a kick or punch. Tom even suspected he was just doing it on purpose. To laugh at him.

Chris woke up to the feeling of something pushing him against his side. He groaned and blearily opened his eyes. When he did, he saw Tom's eyes but a few inches from his own and he scrambled to release his hold in the man. "Ah, sorry." He could see Tom's annoyed expression and felt his cheeks flush. "I didn't wake you, did I?" Before Tom could answer though, the door to the room was thrown open. It was Hadley. "We have a situa- am I interrupting something here?"

"Yes... A phenomenon called sleep." Tom grumbled. "Something I have never had to try harder to accomplish." He stood up when he figured that he wasn't getting any more either and walked around to pick up his armour pieces. "But sure, what is it that could not wait until at least a kinder hour?" He rubbed his eyes. "Romans. We think the ones that were after you at first. If we go now we can catch them before they get back to their camp and report about you." Tom grunted loudly. "Your friend could come along to confirm these are the right men. If they are not we can turn back and act like nothing happened." Hadley explained. Tom stilled to think for a moment. "Fine.... We should keep the element of surprise over them... Wake Quentin up, I want his eyes." Hadley smirked a bit as he planted the seed of Quentin's suspicion. "We can't general. Quentin left at daybreak to hunt, so he said."

"What?!" Tom had yelled, startling Chris a bit as he looked between the two men. Then what Hadley said registered, "Wait what? I can't fight- I'll be a liability and-" "We have no time! And we need a group that can stay inconspicuous if we are ever too late. So I suggest the three of us leave NOW." Tom had thrown armour and loose clothes towards Chris and he put them on, not wanting to anger the men. He had a bad feeling about this, and when Hadley had left to prepare their ride, he spoke to Tom. "Don't you think it's a bit too early? You just got back and already your traitor moves? Doesn't that seem off to you?"

"Quentin is NOT the traitor." Tom hissed. He was not amused to say the least. "This is just an interception. We get those guys if they are the ones you saw. If they are not we let them ride on. I will go and wake Ben. He's executive commander under my lead. One of my best friends. He can stay with you and protect you. And before you would ask, no Ben is not the traitor either. He cannot be for he was the one that put me on my horse and got me to save my sorry ass that day." He yanked at the straps of his armour and inspected his weapons. "Just stay near him."

Chris felt anxious as Tom led them down to the gates again, their horses were already ready and Hadley was there conversing with another man. "General." Both men greeted and Hadley sneered at him slightly, "Make sure you don't get in the way." They rode off into the night and Chris felt a bit off balanced as his own steed galloped at top speed only to slow down when they neared a canyon. It would be easy to get ambushed in there. "Stop- stop!" He called out, "We can't go through that. It's a perfect place to get attacked from the cliffs." He explained quietly, then Hadley growled, "Shut up- keep your opinions to yourself. We cannot lose these men- and the last reported sightings were through here. You have had no experience in battle or in war- so you'd better just stay quiet and try not to expose us to the enemy."

Tom gave Hadley a firm push then. "Do not talk down to him Hadley, lest you wish to be reminded of what little of a man you were when we first faced battle." The other man grew a little pale and instead turned his horse to go ahead. Tom turned to their fourth party member then. "Stay near him Ben. At the slightest note of trouble you ride back to the stronghold with Chris and get a squadron." He instructed before riding after Hadley.

Chris frowned and spurred his horse to follow Tom, but at a slower pace- the man was already a yard ahead of him. He was terrified, but he couldn't just let the soldier go ahead and get himself killed- Ben rode after him, "We follow, but you heard him. The first sign of trouble and-" he was cut off though, as it seemed all the Romans were waiting for was for all of them to enter the canyon. They came in from behind- how had they hidden themselves?- and Chris had no doubt from the other end as well. Arrows went flying and the sound of metal clad feet pounding on stone echoed around them. Their rides were shot at and dropped both him and Ben before running off. Chris shakily took out the sword he'd been given and raised it, Ben stood in front of him a bit and kept pushing him back when the soldiers came in sight. "Damn. Damn, damn, damn!"

Tom only had a moment to take his feet out of the brackets before Abstergos bucked and threw him off. There were Romans there, lots of them. He unsheathed his blade as he got up and got back to back with Hadley. "We knew you would not be able to resist... General." Came the voice of a Roman commander. He held up his hand for the men to hold fire and looked at Tom, seemingly impressed somewhat by his adversary. "You cost us a whole lot of men... So, despite what you might think, your death will not be as easy as this. There are plenty of men who would wish to return the pains you've caused us. And what better way than to die in our dungeons? Begging for your end, a reprieve from the pain and humiliation... And what is humiliation if there is nobody to see your misery? Hm? Your dearest childhood friend and the farmer that thinks you a fighter." He said with a look at Ben and Chris. Tom frowned a little. What about Hadley? He wondered. Both Ben and Chris were subdued and Tom stormed ahead, only to be pulled back by his collar and twisted onto the ground. "Hadley...?" He muttered. The man, his friend, put a sword to his cheek. "I will love to do the honours of first blood on you. 'General'." He knocked Tom on his head with the back of his sword and looked up at the Roman commander. "Delivered as promised."

"You bastard! After all he'd done for you! It was you all along and now Quentin- Quentin might get-" Ben was cut off by a whack to his head with the dull side of a blade. Chris winced- "Well, shall we return to the encampment then?" Hadley asked cheekily, earning a huff from the Roman commander. They were led to a cave and then were winding through the damp tunnels that were there- it led to a wide cavern underground- the ceilings high arches that had stalactites clinging precariously at the top. "Now... let's have some fun with our dear general eh? Strip him of his armour. And his clothes! Leave him in rags!"

It was sickening how happy Hadley seemed at all this. A soldier dragged Ben's limp form to a nearby cell, hacked into the walls and then pushed Chris to join him. "Now, here you will have a nice view to the whole show." He said as he slammed the door shut. Tom's unconscious body was violently relieved off his clothing, until only his trousers remained. They bound Tom with shackles from his ankles, suspending him above the floor, upside down.

Chris could hardly look at Tom then, silently praying to all the gods he could remember to get them out alive. Even going as far as submitting himself to their will. Hadley had waited for Tom to wake and grinned at him as his vision focused, giving his chest a bit of a nudge as he glared. "How's it hanging?" The man guffawed at himself and gave Tom's abdomen a heavy punch, making the man wheeze. Chris tugged at his shackles and leaned as close as he could to the bars, "You are a coward! You are lower than even the filthiest of beasts!"

Tom coughed a little and tried to reach up to free his feet. His head was pounding from the blood that ran to his head. There was an annoying pulsing from the pressure it brought to his head-wound. Hadley taunted him but he paid that no heed. "Why?" He just asked the man. "Why you?"

"Really?" Hadley asked calmly, then he kneed Tom again on the same spot where he'd hit him. "You have the gall to ask WHY? After what you did to me... after how you humiliated me?! Becoming first general was the only way I could win back my family's honour- the only way I could win back their love- and you... you humiliated me!" He took a whip from the box of tools and struck Tom across the expanse of his chest- "Stop it! Stop it you bastard! At least he had the decency to face you like a man! Coward!" Chris rattled his shackles, making Ben groan and sit up beside him. Chris had to admit it to Tom though, he had yet to let out his first scream. Hadley only took it as a sign to take things further however, determined to take out his rage on the man he’d chosen to blame.

Tom grit his teeth as the leather met his skin. Hadley was clearly drawing a fight out of him. He wanted him to argue. When Hadley closed in again Tom grabbed his shirt. "We both know who ruined that... You know damn well, and killing me won't solve it, killing half the world will not solve it. You are what brought disgrace upon your family, you alone." He was shoved away, the chains rattling as he swayed. Ben slowly sat up and rubbed his temple when he heard Chris scream like that.

Chris started pulling at the shackles bolted to the walls when Hadley began whipping Tom with gusto, purposefully hitting the same spots. When Chris heard Tom gasp, he looked back and felt horror as he caught sight of the Roman flagrum. It had ripped bits of Tom's skin as Hadley yanked it away, drawing blood. Chris scrambled over to Ben and shook him, whispering urgently. "Please- please, please, please tell me we can still get out of here. Before it gets worse- I don't want him to get hurt- please!"

Tom grit his teeth to the point where they crunched together. When Hadley struck again he shot out his hand and reeled the weapon in, striking at Hadley's face with it. It lacked some strength because he was hanging by his feet but there was still a crack as the leather collided with the man's cheek. "Pain is not something that will help you. I can work with pain Hadley. You know that. All this won't kill your thirst and anger. Because it is misplaced and you are too much of a fool to recognize it." Ben worked to his knees and looked around, tested the bars and the shackles. "I can't find anything... No openings, no weak hinges... We're stuck."

Chris looked back at Tom then, seeing the blood from his wounds dribble down towards his head. What he'd said only served to anger Hadley more though, and he went behind Tom to strike repeatedly at his back, "I will break you." Hadley growled, dropping the weapon when he'd made enough puncture holes. "Let's connect the dots, shall we, Thomas? Since you don't seem to understand." The man took out a knife and chose a starting point, carving through Tom's back, "This here is you- and you've travelled far and wide- this I know. Many battles and hurdles and all- but it will all. End. Here!" Chris started pulling again at his bindings as Hadley stabbed the knife into Tom's shoulder, the red line he'd drawn crisscrossing over the man's back. "You'll never break him. As long as Tom has something he fights for, he will die no lesser a man than you." Ben spoke up, drawing Hadley's attention. "Mh... you're right. Perhaps I should kill a dear friend he's fighting for then? Or the peasant that he so welcomed with open arms? Shorten their chains." Chris felt his binds retracting into the walls and he panicked. "Nice hm? The Romans have been working on this tunnel ever since I knew about the stronghold. All this time, they were this close- and you didn't even know it."

Tom took a few deep breaths, feeling the skin burn with each intake of air. When Hadley had diverted his attention he mustered the strength to swing himself like a pendulum. When Hadley raised his hand to hurt Chris Tom made two fists and struck him hard, causing Hadley to slam into the wall with a smack and slump back down. "You stay away from him." He rasped.

The guards that had been with Hadley moved quickly and efficiently. One of them grabbed chains and used it to bind Tom's arms behind his back securely, not even flinching when there was a distinct 'pop' that meant one of his shoulders had been dislocated. The other went into the cell, helping Hadley up, but the man merely shook his head and waved him off. "Alright then, I'll stay away from your little charity case." He growled, approaching Ben instead. Chris felt a sudden surge of courage and reached for the guard's sheathed sword, the man was a bit distracted and didn't really expect him to do that, so when he turned, Chris swung at his midsection- tearing open his abdomen. He watched as the man tried to staunch the wound- tried in vain to keep hid innards from spilling, but Chris could see some of his intestines coming out already. He felt mildly nauseous. Hadley had turned to him then, and he caught sight of Ben taking something from his belt. Chris raised the sword as Hadley and the other guard bore down in him, slapping the weapon away from his shaking hands, making it clatter to the floor as they beat him. Chris curled up on himself on the ground, telling himself that it wasn't his fault the man died- he didn't even think he'd swung that hard! He just... he wanted out. He wanted out so bad! The walls felt like hands choking the air out of him.

Tom let out a choked groan and tried to wiggle free. He had to help Chris. Benedict fumbled with his chains as he used Hadley's key to open his locks. He jarred the guard into the wall as he loomed over Chris and slammed the man's head into the wall hard enough to make his skull crunch. He stood up to help Tom. "Chris first. It was your mission." Ben nodded and reached for Chris's chains. Hadley knocked him away and Ben collided with the wall harshly. He pressed the key in Chris's pocket and twisted away before he started to run. He would get a squadron. "Don't open the chains until I return. When I come, free yourself, free Tom. I will come for you." He mumbled to Chris before he fled. Hadley stood up again and followed after Ben, but he lost him. Tom snickered a little, despite his aches. "See, you were always the lesser soldier." Hadley growled and fastened Chris tight on the wall. "You are going to watch, every second, look away and I will gut him like a fish, and you I will skin alive."

Chris didn't know where the gall came from, but when Hadley got up close to his face he spat at the man, earning himself a few well aimed punches and his head to be rammed into the wall behind him. "Hah..hahaha!" He cackled when Hadley tried to look menacing- the sudden rush made him feel lightheaded. He'd just killed a man- and he was going to watch Tom die.. and he'd be skinned! Skinned alive! Chris couldn't help it- instead of the crippling fear he should have been feeling- he felt manic. "Tom was right- you lack conviction. Tsch- petty revenge schemes, you're worse than a woman on her monthly cycle!" Before Hadley could get back at him for that, a group of Romans came down- one he recognized as their commander from earlier. Hadley stepped out of the way as the man stood in front of Chris, taking note of the two dead bodies. "You killed my men." He stated, his voice calm, and Chris stared defiantly at him. The commander turned away from him and faced Hadley, a scowl marring his features. "You, take care of this man. Make him pay for what he did to my subordinates." "But the gene-" "I do not trust you with him. And that is final. A fraction of my men will remain here to ensure your deaths- and the rest of us will be gone by the time that other one arrives. Treasure your last moments knave, we will make you feel the fires of your Tartarus itself."

Tom growled and wiggled his hands, he managed to pop his thumb from the socket and wringed his hand from the chains. He latched himself on the nearby soldier and twisted his neck, grabbing his blade. He hacked two more down before somebody let his chains come down from the ceiling. He landed on his cut-up backside and saw stars for a short moment. A large man grabbed his arm and shook the sword out of it. "You killed my brother with that arm, my nephew... I hate that arm." He placed his foot on Tom's shoulder and grabbed his elbow. "How would you do without that arm?" He twisted the limb back in forth until the bone came loose and started to rip the tissue at the elbow. His raw force enough for his flesh to come loose. Tom screamed now as he felt his lower arm rip off at the elbow.

They were going to die. They were already dead- Tom was writhing on the ground and, his blood and the blood of his enemies  tinging the cavern with a sickening coppery smell. He felt all the spunk from earlier dwindle and disappear and he prayed to the gods to stop playing with them already and just end it. A Roman came thundering in, panting. "Sir, the Greeks have been spotted on the horizon, we must take our leave." The senior officer nodded and ordered his men to douse the place with oil, then left Tom, him and- not surprisingly Hadley inside before dropping the smallest match stick and sweeping away. Leaving an inferno to build up behind him.

Tom was immobilised from the pain as he lay panting, bleeding out from the ragged mess of what was left from his arm. Hadley got to his feet, delirious. "This is all your fault!" He yelled at Tom. "All of it!! I will die! But I swear to the gods that my last act will be to ruin you!" He was just full-blown crazy as he took a knife from the other warrior's belt and bound over to where Tom was. Chris writhed in his binds and only then felt the key Ben had slipped into his pocket.

It was tricky to get the key from his pocket, the chains having been shortened to the point where he couldn't reach, but how Chris managed to do it in the end was a mystery. It took a few tries to free himself, his hands were shaking so bad- but whether from fear or anger or something else, he did not know. The heat was suffocating, the fire licking at everything at a much faster pace because of the oil and smoke was already starting to build up as Chris roared and ran for Hadley. He tackled the man as he raised his knife over Tom's form and they went tumbling through a wall of the flames, crashing into one of the crates at the other side. They were both a bit deranged, Hadley maybe a little more than himself, but he could admit easily that he was too as he picked up a splintered piece of wood and started stabbing it through Hadley's form.

There was a cry from the other end of the room that stopped Chris. It sounded like his name. He turned, finding Tom weakly tugging at the cuffs around his ankles. Chris let Hadley's long dead body slump to the floor and hurried back to  use the key. Tom just stared at him, his eyes glassy. But then again... How much did it have to hurt to lose half your arm to a berserk warrior. "Tom!" Sounded Ben's voice. "Tom! Are you guys still in there?!"

"Here!" Chris yelled, trying to work the key inside to release Tom from his bindings, but his fingers were shaking so hard that it took Ben getting there to free the other man. He tried to ignore the arm that was a few paces away and used the ripped up cloak from one of the bodies to staunch the blood that kept pouring out of Tom's missing limb. They carried Tom between them- Ben holding his legs while Chris hooked his arms under the man's armpits- and made their way out, up to the surface. The Romans were very efficient though- they had somehow managed to douse the entire cavern in oil and walking through the flames, the smoke made Chris's skin sizzle and his chest constrict with every breath. When they were finally out, what relief he could feel was crushed as they lay Tom down. The man was barely breathing- his eyes half-leaded, having a faraway look into them.

Ben immediately drank some water when they got out and beckoned Chris to do the same. "Tom... Stay here with us. I know you can do it." He ripped his own cleaner shirt to shreds and bound it over the ragged edges, getting a pained grunt out of the man. "Quentin, ride back to the stronghold, have them ready a healing room. Take the farmer with you." A younger soldier came through the crowd and gave Ben a quick nod. He extended his hand to pull Chris up on his horse. When they were out of sight Ben looked Tom over, looking if he was able to be moved. "Did Hadley...." Tom slowly shook his head. He had lost his sword arm... He was useless now, crippled.

They rode ahead, leaving a platoon of soldiers behind in case the Romans decided to go back. When they arrived, Chris got off of the horse and followed mutely as Quentin barked his orders. The man- boy- turned to him and was about to get him to be treated, but he shook his head. It wasn't his blood. Quentin nodded and coaxed him to at least clean up, that Tom would be fine. Except he wouldn't be because he was dying and his arm was RIPPED OFF. They just managed to get to the baths when Chris turned and began vomiting.

Quentin rubbed up over his back and had Chris lean over a bucket. He tied back the man's hair and stayed close, offering his presence as a good one. He cleaned Chris off and checked if he had any burns, but except for a few bruises he'd suffered in his struggles Chris was relatively spotless. He helped the man up and they sat in a quiet corner together, waiting for the others. "Do you wish to talk?" Quentin asked when they both had been silent. His accent was foreign, Roman but yet again not entirely Roman either...

Chris shook his head. He didn't trust his voice. They waited for a few minutes more and Chris was distantly aware of the healers scurrying and bustling about as Ben and his company arrived. Quentin got up, looking at him indecisively. Chris waved him off. He needed to reassure himself that his commander was still with them. Chris couldn't deny him that.

Quentin joined Ben when the other man stepped away to watch from a distance. "How is he?" He asked carefully. "We've lost men to much less." Ben said grimly. "Yes... But this is Tom, our general... He is basically indestructible." Quentin crossed his arms a little. Ben however shook his head. "Not this time... This time it's over. He was already fading when we rode here. He's not coming back from this..." Quentin searched his face for untruth, but Ben did never lie about death. "We can't lose hope." He was about to continue when the healers seemed to rather suddenly come to a halt.  Quentin was about to urge them to go the hell back to their jobs when he watched them step away, heads bowed, Tom's body covered with a white cloth.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am so sorry that you all had to wait ages for this. My laptop got fried in the warm days we had in spring over here and I hadd to wait for the company to put in a new hard-drive and stuff. So the story was unreachable for me. Forgive me please!!

Chris felt his conscious mind detach from his physical body- he saw himself from a third perspective and watched the solemn and morose mood wash over the entire room. When he finally plummeted back into himself, he stood abruptly and backed away. They barely noticed as he let himself out. The guilt was clawing at him- burning him from the inside out and manifesting itself in the heat that built up in his eyes, the tight feeling of his chest, the anger- rage that was beginning to bubble in the pit of his stomach, and the grief that kept it all inside his body. He'd only felt it once- but the white linen draped over Tom's face struck him harder than he'd like to admit. He needed some air- being confined in the stronghold made his mind feel more clogged up. Tom was dead. He stopped and leaned against a wall, sinking down on his knees. Was this what the gods had planned for him? To keep losing those that he valued? The rage boiled over. It made him curse everything that he could name.

Benedict could not believe it. He felt heavy as he walked to the healing table and he shook like a child as he carefully pulled back the cloth from Tom's face. The man's skin was ashen. His eyes were shut and his entire complexion.... Dead. Too slack for sleep, dead. His only childhood friend was dead. After all that they had faced he was now standing over the man he loved most, watching his lifeless face. "No... No Tom... This isn't what we agreed on... We were going to win the war and live like princes. That's what you said... That's what we were going to do..." He sobbed.

Quentin joined his colleague by the table and felt his own eyes welling up. The man had saved him. Gave him purpose when he himself had given up, and now Tom was dead. He shared Ben's pain as deeply as everyone in the room. In one way or another, Tom had influenced all of their lives, had given them hope. To lose him after they'd only gotten him back... the mourning process wasn't an easy one.

"No... Nonono...." Ben kept muttering as Quentin eventually found the strength to cover Tom's face again. "What do we do now?" He asked with a crack in his voice. "Without Tom... Who would lead us? Pull us through this war?" He chewed on his lip. "You talk of the war now? Who cares of the war in these hours?" Ben asked angrily. "We will not say a word about war until we have seen him off into the afterlife in a way that he deserved, with a mourning week, with a pyre, and with a feast. And then, when we have honoured his body we will honour his legacy." He was trembling with grief. "I will clean him, gods forbid I will leave him to lay in the stench of his wounds."

Quentin felt his lip quiver and he rubbed his face. "Okay... I'll go and.. I'll look for suitable garb for him." He left Ben with a silent squeeze on his shoulder and walked out into the hallways. He only let himself mourn when he was in the general's- late general's quarters. As the sun climbed higher up the sky, so did the grief of the stronghold.

Benedict took Tom's body towards the baths and cleaned him, binding the ragged skin of his arm off with the care and gentleness he would have used had the man still lived. After he was clean Quentin helped him to dress their general again, putting him in his battle gear. They left him to rest the rest of that night. By noon they would say farewell to him and burn his body. Nobody could bear to be near him however, and it was in this silence that a flame drifted from the lamps, taking on the fluent form of a young woman. The nymph. She moved to Tom and kissed his forehead gently before dying out again like a candle. Slowly, under the binds, Tom's flesh started to pull together.

Chris had drifted from the halls like a spectre ever since Tom had died. Nobody minded though, and he was alright with that- occasionally, Quentin would sit or walk with him.. tell him things about Tom that he didn't know and would never be able to hear from the man's own lips. He hadn't slept yet, and that night, when Tom was scheduled to be set aflame, he was indecisive of whether to visit the man and say his farewells or simply just leave. He had no place here- and he didn't want to see Tom burn. It would give him an idea of what his family might have looked like as they met that end, and he didn't think he could bear just standing there when they lit the pyre. Hell, he didn't think it'd be beyond him if he tried to put the flames out. Noon drew nearer and he felt his gut clenching as the soldiers all started preparing for Tom's funeral. Everything felt heavy.

Eventually it was Quentin that saw the farmer's doubt. He gently guided him to Tom. The others were all out to build the pyre so Chris could have some time alone. "You will forever regret it if you have not said a goodbye." Quentin said as he opened the doors. Tom's body was covered with a fine grey blanket. "You take your time, call me when you are ready." He said before retreating and silently shutting the doors behind him. He waited out front dutifully, swallowing around the lump in his throat.

"I hate you..." were the first words that Chris managed to force out. He gathered his wits to say something more, but what came out was just a choked repetition of his first words. "You said you wouldn't hurt me. Now look at what you're doing..." he mumbled, then he bit his lip and blinked, the tears came afterwards. He held it in the last couple of hours, but seeing Tom's face slack and lifeless broke the dam. He rubbed at his eyes like a child with one hand, the other coming up to grab his chest, bunching up the fabric as if it would lessen the deep ache. "I told you... I told you not to pay your debt with your life. I hate you so much you bastard." He was aware of his shaking knees, his trembling voice hoarse from the screaming he'd done earlier. "Why couldn't you just kept still? I was fine. I was FINE and you just HAD to play hero and now you're dead. You're dead and they'll burn you. Do you understand that? They are going to burn you and I have to watch!"

The hall was quiet as only Chris's sobs echoed through it. Eventually Ben returned and Quentin let him in, following after him. Chris had given up on standing and was now quietly rocking back and forth against the rock. Ben sighed a little, knowing he would have to carry his dead friend, and try not to burst out in grief while doing it. He peeled back the blanket and folded it up, but when he turned back to grab Tom he froze in his tracks. "What?" Asked Quentin. "Can't you do it?" Because he could very well understand that. "His arm..." Ben choked out.

Quentin frowned and looked at Tom's form, "What about-" he cut himself off as he stared at the limb. He was pretty sure there had been a stump there earlier. Quentin looked at Ben, a question in his eyes, but he could see that the other man was as bewildered as he was. He turned to Chris then, kneeling down and grabbing him by the collar. "What did you do? What kind of sorcery is this?!"

Ben let Quentin go about whatever it was he was doing and touched Tom's hand, he had a hand again. The binds he'd put over the stump had ripped and moved. The skin had attached seamlessly. It even held the freckles Ben knew. It was Tom's arm. Quentin shook Chris once. "Leave him alone." Echoed a very, very familiar voice, causing Quentin to drop Chris immediately. Tom's eyes were opening on slits, weakly, but they were no longer the human blue... They were glowing, gold.

Quentin felt his jaw drop as he looked into Tom's eyes. He didn't want to admit it, but he was terrified. Tom looked... he looked unnatural. In fact, he sort of looked like... a god. Had the man been granted godhood for his sacrifice? He wondered briefly if he were to cut the man, golden ichor would pour out instead of blood. Chris covered his ears then, burying his face in his knees. He just heard Tom's voice. He rocked back and forth with renewed vigour. Was he going mad? Maybe he was- the dead didn't speak.

Ben watched in awe as Tom slowly sat up, helping him by holding his shoulders. His eyes opened entirely and the irises emitted a soft glow from the now golden colours. He saw a burial sheet folded up at his feet and he frowned. Somebody died? Then he looked around, the others were shell-shocked and Chris was in pure misery... He had died. "Your eyes..." Ben said. "I thought your hair was odd... But your eyes..." He touched Tom's cheek. "It's beautiful..."

Quentin looked on as Ben wrapped his arms around Tom, the other man folding his own across Ben's back. When Ben let go, he held Tom at arms-length, and only then did Quentin have the chance to look fully upon his mentor himself. He grabbed Tom's shoulder, and then his arm that had somehow grown out again. "Good gods..." and he couldn't find any other words to say.

Tom held them both near and assured them he was alright. Chris had stopped sobbing, but he seemed yet too afraid to look up. Tom carefully asked the two other men to leave him, to bring the others the glad news. He needed to talk with Chris. His friends took leave and Tom lowered himself from the healing table, sitting across Chris with his legs crossed. "I'm real... Please look at me...." Tom pleaded carefully.

Chris shook. It was muffled, but he was most definitely hearing Tom's voice- he was sure of it now. He was mad. "You aren't." He muttered against his knees, "You're dead." He steeled himself and looked up, but he didn't look at Tom. Instead he looked over the man's shoulder. "I'm sorry..."

Tom frowned a little and hesitantly grabbed Chris's hand. "I am real... Apollo sent me back. He showed me Chris. He showed me my destiny... Our destiny. It's beautiful." He gently made Chris look at him. "I'm here. Do not ignore what your eyes know to be true." He said. He felt better than ever too. Brimming with an otherworldly energy.

Chris looked at anywhere but at Tom's eyes. He focused on the man's lip, his cheeks, his forehead. When Tom spoke of destiny, he frowned, then he lost his control and looked at the man's eyes. What he saw made him pause- he didn't see his reflection. He saw other people- he was looking into a kaleidoscope of events, faces.. were those memories, perhaps? "I don't understand..."

Tom blinked and then it was gone, just the golden glow. "He showed me Chris, why I survive. Why he lets me live. It's for you." The farmer frowned then. A god healed Tom, for him? "You are to be king Christopher... The new king. Our old king will die by the hand of the Roman hoards. And you, you will rule after we have won. I must live to make that happen, to win that war, to keep you safe. I have not seen all, I know not how we will get there. But that future was what was shown me. You are the next king of Greece, and I your general."

Chris balked. Him? A king? He didn't even know the first thing when it came to people or politics- he was just a farmer. "That... that is absurd. Why me?" He frowned heavily, he reached out a hand hesitantly, then held Tom's face. He let his hand fall to the man's chest and he let it rest there. "So you were really gone? You really died?" Chris asked then, Tom nodded and smiled gently at him. "My... my family- did you happen to- were they- are they.. are they in Elysium? Are they happy?"

"I cannot tell you that. It is forbidden. And I never went there… to the fields I mean, But I am sure that they are proud of you. And I am certain they are good of heart... So yes, of course they are in Elysium." Tom stood and helped Chris up, he saw the way Chris kept gazing at his eyes. "I'm sorry if it looks scary, to be sunkissed means your body takes in its light." He apologized. "I can show you the vision Apollo granted me... You will be king."

Chris didn't know if he wanted to or not- seeing it meant it was true, and he wasn't so sure if he wanted that for himself quite yet. He shook his head. "I.. I can't. I don't want to." He kept shaking his head then, but he looked up at Tom with a weak smile. "Maybe- maybe later. I don't think I'm ready- this is a bit too much." He sighed, pulling Tom towards him in an embrace, "Don't ever do that again. I don't want you to die."

Tom closed his eyes and held the man against him. "I'm sorry that you had to go through that... Again." it was after all not the first time he'd had death hang over him like the sword of Damocles. "I assure you now that I will avoid death as much as I can." He squeezed Chris's shoulder a bit and looked at the doors, he had to face his men, show them that he still lived, that Ben and Quentin had spoken the truth. He opened the doors and found his men kneeling, heads bowed to him as if he was one of the deities they all worshipped.

Chris stood awkwardly to the side as all of the Greek soldiers knelt, and when Tom moved towards them, they parted like the sea. They paved a path for him, some clapping him on the shoulder or clasping his arm, as if he were something sacred. And Chris supposed he was, the man had just come back from the dead. In the end, it was one of the stable-boys that had spoken up, "Master.. sir- you have been given back to us once more. May I be so bold as to ask why sire?"

Tom felt a bit of a sting to be watched as something divine, he was no more than the men he served with. "The god Apollo has entrusted me with the most important task of all. To ensure Greek's future, by protecting and serving its king to be." he spoke up. "I am only the warrior, your leader, the one you should kneel for, stands yet there. Your king." he turned and took a knee for Chris, humbly showing his respects for the farmer that he held dear. His friend and liege.

Chris felt his eyes widen at the gesture and then almost reeled back when, one by one, the soldiers dropped down until every single one was kneeling before him. He felt his heart hammering in his chest, and when he spoke, his voice was but a murmur, "I know not what the gods plan, nor have I seen the destiny Tom speaks... but I bid you, please, don't kneel before me. I am just a man- merely a man. I- I won't always expect you to be the only ones to fight this battle." He glanced at Tom when he spoke next, holding his gaze, "It would.. it would be an honour if you accept me into your ranks, not as your ruler or commander or superior, but as your equal. I am willing to learn and do my best to earn your trust and respect- to earn your approval if I am indeed to become king."

Tom stood and grabbed Chris's arm. "Welcome then, to the Greek army." He turned. "Let us celebrate this day! Let us remember that the Greek have the blessing of the GODS!" A loud cheer echoed through the halls and all men rose to their feet once again. Tom caught sight of Ben and the man looked utterly happy and relieved. Tom gave him a nod and looked back at Chris. "Let's get you to our room. My instincts tell me that you need a moment from this." he guided the man towards the stairwell and followed him up to the general's quarters. He turned once. "Quentin, take a few men for the hunt. We shall feast like victors tonight."

Chris sat down on the bed and looked at the palms of his hands, trying to see if the lines of the calloused skin held the answers. When Tom sat beside him, he buried his face in his hands. "I'm having a really hard time believing this.. why me? You're an influential person, you have what it takes to lead these people- why not you?"

Tom shrugged a little. "You must have something I do not... I am a commander, not a leader." He held Chris's hands in his own, rubbing his thumbs over his wrists. "I believe you will be a splendid king, more glorious than any before you. Just, humble and righteous." he kneeled in front of Chris and smiled up at him. "The future I saw was glorious. You were so intensely happy. We all were." he explained. He stood again and looked out into the chartrooms. "However, it is not yet here. To get there I'm afraid there will be more darkness to face. We must hold faith, whatever happens."

Chris felt a smile pulling at his lips, sighing out and letting the tension roll off of him as best as he could. "So long as you stand by my side. Promise me that you will?" Chris asked, then frowned a little, "No, of course not. You still have your men to worry about." He felt his eyes become heavy and he resisted it, but now that he wasn't so high strung, only then did he feel the need for rest. He shook his himself, clearing his head of the fog coming over him. "Get some rest, Christopher. You are drained." He looked at Tom and sniffed, he felt a bit silly about his fear. "I... I'm afraid. What if I wake up and find out this was just a wistful dream? What if you're gone again and they burned you without me getting to say goodbye?" He pulled his feet up the bed, resting his forearms on them- and he felt himself flush. "Will you... will you lie with me at least? Please?"

Tom turned away from the balustrade and gave the other man a warm smile. "I'm not going anywhere." he promised. He carefully took off his armour and put it away. Ben had taken out his best to be burned in it, he was glad that he could now at least wear it into battle. He took off his boots and curled up on one side of the bed, looking at the other man. He snorted suddenly and Chris turned to look at him. "It's so odd, you are a large, strong man. In physical strength you easily outmatch me... And yet you are timid like a child. You should trust in that strength, embrace that you are now a man and no longer that poor child that lost his family. Be a man Chris, the world won't be waiting for you to grow up."

Chris frowned, shoving Tom's shoulder. "I can be anything that I want to be. After all, I'm going to be king. I do what I want." He tried to make light of it, but then he frowned again, looking at the sheets between them. "It's not that which holds me back. Not really." He huffed out a bit of a laugh, "I'm not a naive child, Thomas. Just because I don't always want to take action doesn't mean I'm any less of a man... does it?" Uncertainty crept into him- how easy it was for the man to inspire doubt in him, "Am I? I am, aren't I. I am not even a man- how can the gods expect me to lead?"

Tom let out a theatrical groan and turned on his back. "How can you live with your head spinning like that? Have you never... ever, just done something? Thought, what the hell, we'll burn that bridge when we get there?" he sat up to take off his shirt when he found it to warm and got under the sheets. "Now, take that rest I told you to take and sleep. I am right here, and you're head is about to explode."

"Not my fault. And I have. I killed a man for Ben- for you.. I wasn't even thinking about what I was doing." He reached out and grabbed Tom's arm, closing his eyes, "And oddly enough... I don't regret it. I feel a bit guilty, yes.. but I don't regret it, and I don't think I ever will." He felt the blackness closing in, sleep beckoning for him, "But I swear... I swear not to take a life without reason. For every life I take- there must also be a life that I have saved in return... I'll gladly slay a thousand men if I spare at least thousands more in return. I don't think I'll be able to live with myself otherwise."

Tom smiled and patted the man's cheek and closed his eyes. "Sleep. You can't celebrate and be righteous without being rested." Tom chuckled and kissed the top of the man's head before he curled up comfortably and shut his eyes again. "My king..." he added for good measure.

"Mmmmhh.." Chris murmured, tangling his legs with Tom's and pulling him close before he blissfully fell asleep, the other man's warmth lulling him into a sense of security not even the stronghold could provide.

Tom kissed Chris's forehead and let the man's arms pull him in. He was glad that Chris saw him as a means of comfort, as something safe. And that was what he wished to be. He wished to be where people felt safe and secure. Not because of his godly blessing, but because of his heart.

Quentin was riding his hunting party through the forests, the dogs running ahead as he readied his bow and prepared to shoot the wild boar that ran for its life. They had all gotten separated, each tracking after animals in the woods. But they would all be back before dark, in front of the gates with their game. And then they would feast.

When the crisp, fresh air hit his face, he gasped it in like a dying man. Without really thinking, he stumbled through the woods, all that he knew was that he was angry- and he wanted to spill blood. A hog ran past him, and he looked at it briefly before pressing himself against the bark of the nearest tree. Listening- hunting. He felt like a predator, and it twisted his face into a feral, malicious smile. Yes, he liked that title... predator. But he was more than the predator… He was man once, a man with a name. Ah yes, he remembered. Hadley.

Quentin fired and the arrow-tip buried into the boar's leg. He shot another and immobilised his prey. Gracefully he jumped off his horse and went for the kill, ending the animal's suffering before praising it with a prayer. He heard a loud whinnying from his horse and looked back. Phios was going wild, he was bucking and shaking his head. "Phios?" the horse let out another of the loud cries and fled like it had seen demons. "Phios!" Quentin yelled. But then he stopped as he saw a weird shade creep over the floors, as if night was falling, rapidly.

The man he saw never anticipated him, and it was surprising how easily he took him down. He felt strong- powerful. It made his lust for blood, his hunger for killing even stronger. "Lost in the woods? Oh, wee lamb." The man's eyes were wide, he screamed, but there came no sound. "Ah, ah. You know, I may be stronger now, but I can't face you and your allies on my own. You are my token to success, and you shall be the downfall of Greece." Oh he knew this man… boy. Quentin was a friend once. But he no longer needed friends. What he craved now was death and power.

Quentin only managed to get a choked gasp out of his throat as the grey hand closed around his throat. The other was a monster, his body like coal and his hair like smoke, the eyes burned red. A demon. He tried to twist, get a knife from his belt but the creature was strong and forceful. He could admit nothing else than that he was lost to the creatures intentions. And he could tell they were foul.

As his hand closed around the man's neck, they were deformed and almost looked like talons. With nothing but a few seconds of pressure, he had rendered the soldier unconscious. A slow smile revealed jagged, yellow teeth- even his breaths were rancid and unpleasant. The vegetation around them was slowly wilting- the creature draining it of life. It felt wonderful. "Now, let's go and get me a heroic ending, yes?"


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Back again with more. Please leave a comment, much appreciated.

Chris slept like the dead. There was no other way to define how deep his slumber was. He had no dreams, no nightmares- it was as if he just closed his eyes, but couldn't open them. Like his body had shut down and disconnected its ties with his mind- but the feel of Tom's body snug against his own kept him from panicking. He was being given time to think then...

Tom drifted off in little naps every now and then, but only to wake up a few moments later each time. He kept Chris near and lazily brushed through his hair. He felt Chris inch closer each time, stroking his back in his sleep. He felt drawn to Tom, so he could tell, not just to his warmth. He patiently waited for Chris to wake from his slumbers as he lay there, taking in his little moments of sleep whenever they came.

Chris didn't know for how long he slept, but when he finally gained control of his body he opened his eyes slowly. Tom was awake, the unnatural shade of his eyes luminous against the otherwise dark room, and for a moment, they just lay like that. Chris breathed him in, he let his hand curl around the back of the other man's neck, playing with the curls as he brought their foreheads together. He closed his eyes again and simply breathed.

Tom smiled at Chris when his hazy eyes opened. The man pulled him in and he let him, feeling the farmer's hand squeeze his neck a little. "How did you sleep?" he asked when Chris did not speak at all. "Well I hope." he rubbed his thumb over Chris's arm. In a way it started to register what they were doing, how they were so close and intimate without really minding it. It kind of just happened, and neither of them felt strange about it.

Chris continued to remain silent, he felt Tom's forehead crease with worry, "Chris?" He didn't know what it was that spurred him, only that he simply gave in to the movements of his body. He tilted his head up a bit until his lips were only a hair's breath away from Tom's, and then he leaned closer to connect them.

Tom let his eyes slip shut as he felt Chris's lips ghost against his shortly and then felt them press together. They did not need to say anything. It had started somewhere in those weeks Tom spent at Chris's farm. Affection, friendship…. love. They kissed slowly and carelessly and it felt good. Natural, as if they had been like this for years. That same night they made love. It was easy… As if they had both knew that this was how they belonged to be. It was a sweet, quiet night, where only they existed and the world no longer mattered.  As they came down from the high Tom lay back beside Chris and kissed him again. This time differently, laced with the words ‘I love you’ leaving his lips in a whisper.

Chris was still having little tremors when Tom kissed him. It was sweet- chaste- but it felt like the most sinful act. He pulled away and slumped down beside the other man, kissing the side of his neck and pulling him closer. "And I, you." He mumbled, wrapping his arm over Tom's chest as he kissed the man's shoulder. "Did you see this? In our future, I mean. Did you know?"

"No... I knew you still held me dear, trusted me. I was your prime commander and leader of the entire army... But this, this realisation is better than the titles I knew I'd bear." He turned his head to look at Chris, kissing his shoulder. "I would throw that whole future away if it meant that I was not with you." He admitted. He turned on his side to keep Chris closer. He was about to kiss him deeper when the door was flung open, startling the both of them. "Ben!" He exclaimed. "Oh come on, all you just did we have seen and done before both. It's Quentin, his horse returned.... Without him."

Chris scrambled to get dressed and followed Tom and Ben. The other man led them to the stables, where Quentin's steed was still bucking away from the stable hands and kept whinnying. Tom approached the animal, careful to keep his movements slow, but the beast seemed to calm somewhat when he managed to get a hold of its reigns. "He's very agitated... what did you see?" He heard Tom ask, "Our steeds are trained never to leave their riders. To have had him come running back here without Quentin..." Chris felt worry turning over in his stomach. The man had comforted him when Tom had died- he'd stayed with him even though he had his own mourning to do. "We have to look for him." Chris spoke, getting Tom's attention. "We need to."

Tom patted Phios' neck and thoughtfully looked it over. "We can't. It's night. Quentin is important. He is my friend. But I cannot send men into the woods if there is something murderous in there. At dawn we will ride and-" a loud banging echoed through the hall as someone pounded on the gates with the rhythm they knew. Tom walked to the hatch and pulled it aside to look who'd come. "Ben! Fetch the healers!" He yelled when he saw Quentin fall in front of the gate.

Chris took the initiative to get a folded up cloak from one of the supply crates and ran to drape it around the younger man's shoulders. He looked half-mad, half naked and trembling- his voice shook and his words stuttered when he tried to explain what had happened. Chris came to stand beside Tom as he kneeled and shushed Quentin, the man clutched at his chest, a grimace on his features. "It's out there! It was chasing me- he was playing with me Tom! When I got out of the camp- I thought.. I thought I was free but he's out there! In the darkness- don't let it in. Please."

Tom took Quentin up from the ground and brought him in. "Shut the gates." He ordered. "Bolt them." He brushed through Quentin's hair as he carried him to where there was more light. He smelled horrible. He set Quentin down gently and gave him his shirt to wear. "Who followed you Quentin?" He asked calmly. The younger warrior shook his head and rocked back and forth a bit. "Quentin we cannot protect you and ourselves if we do not know what it is we are up against." He grabbed a cloth and started dabbing at a few cuts the other had sustained when he was fleeing. "Hadley..." Quentin said with shaky voice. "Hadley came back... He is a monster Tom... And he is hungry for blood."

"But that's impossible. I..." Chris let his voice taper off. Oh sweet gods. Tom was brought back.. what was stopping them from adding more? "What did he tell you?" Tom asked gently. It was then that the younger man began tearing up, Tom put a hand on his head and pulled him close, letting him rest his forehead on his chest. "They... they... I- they didn’t tell anything I- I don’t know why..."

"Sshhh... you're safe now." Tom rubbed over the man's back. "Ben... Can you get him a pair of pants? And Quentin… Who are ‘they’? Who is with Hadley?" he asked softly. "Hadley serves the Romans no longer, he leads them. He said they would kill the king of Greece, take as many of us down. And he said I would be the cause of it." Quentin sobbed. Tom hushed him again. "Nothing will ever be your fault Quent. You are a good man and soldier, Hadley is only trying to break you, all of us. From now on nobody leaves the strong-hold without need to. And we must get a letter to the king. If the words are true we must protect him."

Chris watched Quentin sob and felt white hot fury in his veins. The man was scared, he could tell, no matter how hard he tried to hide it. He breathed in and calmed somewhat. He helped the man put on some trousers and listened  patiently as he explained what had happened. "That doesn't sound like the work of any of the gods..." he thought it over in his head, "You know... I've traded with some pagans before. They have had people brought back from the dead- but said that their new physical body matched the state of their souls." He shrugged when Tom looked at him oddly, "They have to be stopped. You said he turned five men into the creature he has become, right? We can't let him gain superiority in numbers."

"Those men were different... They were not like Hadley." Quentin stayed close to Tom, refusing to let him go. "He said his saviours were more ancient, more powerful. He said that you would be no match for him because the power he'd been given was much grander." Tom stayed calm for Quentin's sake, but he would not deny that he was worried. "What did Hadley look like?" He asked calmly, still rubbing over Quentin's back to offer comfort. "Black, like coal. And his hair was like smoke. His eyes red." Tom shut his eyes and cursed lowly. "What?" Ben asked. "We are not talking about pagan gods..." Ben frowned. "You sure? This doesn't sound like something even Hades could do." Tom shook his head. "No. We are not talking of our gods either. We are talking about something far worse... Titans."

Chris shook his head, "No... that can't be. The Titans were defeated- our gods made sure of that. What purpose would they achieve?" Then it all clicked into place, "Oh... if they destroy Greece... nobody would remain faithful to the-" he shook his head again and started pacing, biting his nails, his nervous habits acting up again. How in the world did the gods expect them to win? Chris turned to Quentin, about to ask him what else, but decided against it. "You should get some rest... you look exhausted."

"I don't dare to sleep..." Quentin sobbed. Ben nodded and held his hand. "I'll be with you, we'll give you some poppy juice and I'm going to be right there." He gave Tom a quick nod before gently taking Quentin away. Tom walked back to the map room, knowing Chris would follow. "I have to... I have to get answers." He said. "From the gods. Apollo's blessing is something I feel great gratitude for. But if he cannot reveal to me how I am supposed to fight a Titanite... Then he can't expect me to succeed either. Keep an eye on everyone. I want to be sure Hadley was the only traitor."

Chris grabbed Tom's hand. He didn't want the man out of his sight- didn't want him anywhere beside his side. But then he let go, and Tom seemed surprised by this. "You said nobody would leave without need, and I doubt any traitors lingered. Your men will need you to lead them. They are looking to you for guidance."

"I am only going to use the temple. It's deep into the strong-hold. But I must do so alone." Tom held Chris's cheek and kissed his forehead. "I will guide and lead my men when I am ready to do so. When I have the answers they want to hear. All I ask is that you keep your eyes peeled. There is a redhead here. His name is Sting, keep track of him for me." He rubbed Chris's neck. "Give me an hour, two at most."

Chris watched mutely as Tom turned to leave, then leaned his arms against the table. He heaved a sigh and scrubbed at his face. He didn't feel right here without Tom- but the man was right. He had to grow up- take action. He couldn't be a helpless liability. Chris found himself in the mess hall then, most of the soldiers were there- some others at the training grounds. He asked one to be led there and he just stood there for a bit, watching the soldiers spar and practice. He took up one of the dull blades and balanced it in his palm. "You know how to use that?"

Sting only smirked as Chris turned and pointed the blade at him. "Oh... You sure are a skittish one." He pressed the tip away from his face. Chris was sure that this was who Tom meant. His hair was bright red, his eyes as silver as the steel they fought with. He was tall, with an incredibly lean physique, narrow but strong. "I could teach you of course... But... Why should I waste my time?"

"Why do you think I'd want to be taught by you anyways? There are others here that will be more willing." Chris huffed. The man gave him the wrong vibes- just like with Hadley. But he couldn't simply jump into conclusions. "Besides, I know how to wield a blade. Somewhat." It was true.. it couldn't be too hard, could it?

Sting balked at that and slammed the sword from Chris's hand hard enough to make his arm swing with it. The blade skidded across the hall. "Oh yes, you're a natural. Good thing you'll be king, where you can sit on your lazy ass and command our dear general to kill whoever denies you as you watch from your pretty throne." He mocked. "Well... You are not my king. Not yet, not until I have seen a king rather than a coward farmer with a love struck general."

Others had stopped to watch now and Chris felt a bit of anger. "I am no coward." He retorted, going over to pick the blade up. "I would gladly fight with all of you- and I will not simply sit and bark out orders. If and when the time comes, I will be a blade among you. I may not have been raised or trained to fight, but I was not raised a coward either. And you would do well to respect Tom... he was first general even before I came along, so you had best remember that when you talk of him."

Sting leaned back. "Tom is not as much of an angel as you might believe. I for one... I do not believe that a man... No, a wimp, like him becomes 'first general' like that. I tell you, your loved general probably spread his legs or opened his mouth for many a man before you. How else does some pretty little face from a petty village get that far?" He looked at the rest, the soldiers looked angry. "Watch it my liege, he might have something contagious." He said before making his exit.

Before the man could truly leave, Chris called out to him- "If that were true and you believe him to be incompetent, why haven't you challenged him on his position?" He felt a small twinge of victory when the man stilled, "Tell me, am I truly the coward here? You speak badly of him only if he isn't here, but when he is, you fall in line despite your little false claim. Only market women gossip, real men- true men confront."

Sting turned and shrugged. "You may better hope that I do not... You might lose your respect for him if I were to bring him down, his god's shine does not frighten me... There are greater powers in this world than the gods of Olympus..." With that final sneer the redhead disappeared into the barracks. "Coward..." Chris huffed and turned, ramming the sword into the nearest straw dummy. It buried in its chest and stuck there before Chris went to follow Sting.

Tom headed down the stairs and headed into the shrine. He closed the doors behind him and told the temple keepers that he wished to be left alone. When he turned to the altar the young nymph woman was seated on it, smiling at him. "I have been expecting you... Apollo has sent me. We need to talk."

Tom looked at her with a bit of a frown, so she mimicked the expression. "You've come to seek answers, haven't you?" She giggled then, shaking her head. "You are not satisfied with me. Well, the gods are a bit occupied right now. It will just be me."

Tom shook his head. "No, fair lady. It is not that I am unsatisfied with your presence. You have always come with good tidings so far. But please do tell me that you have come to do once again." The young woman laughed a bit. "Fair lady? Oh general, your reputation precedes you even among the gods." Tom smiled a little at her. "But if not the disappointment, why the frown?" He sat down then. "How am I to fight a Titanite? Did your gods know Hadley were to become this? Then why did you not stop it? What must I do?"

The nymph sighed, "Thomas... why do you think Apollo gifted you with his light? He could have easily brought you back, even without the blessing. Think- if the gods have spared you enough time to decide to bring you back, why do you think it was you and not some other person? Christopher with all his innocence has figured out why he was chosen to rule. Olympus is in chaos... if you cannot figure out why, then fighting is for naught. The gods believed in you, Thomas, that is why they chose you. What was it that you have truly desired since the war started? What was your reason why you went to such lengths?"

Tom shut his eyes. "Freedom for the people, under a fair king's rule." He answered. "Right you are. And that is a pure and beautiful vision. The Titanite was not something they foresaw. Cronus had been sly to keep his pawn in the shadows. We understand how difficult this makes things. A Titanite on his own can kill even lesser gods. The gods have argued about you. Apollo had to defend your heart and intent... But they all know that here on Gaia you are our only hope. The gods no longer have the power they once had on this soil. To aide you in your purpose however, the three great gods have each granted you a gift. I am to give it to you, but I am not allowed to reveal them to you, for they can only be summoned when your heart is open, and the need high. Give me your hand Thomas."

She took his palm and spoke ancient Greek, nothing happened. Nothing appeared. But once she was done, it left the shrine pulsing with light. "What happened? I don't feel any-" Tom spoke, but she had already hidden herself in the mist. Apparently he again was supposed to find out what to make of all this on his own. It was the gods’ way of entertaining themselves so it seemed.

Tom let out a bit of a huff and checked his arm. He had faith that he would know soon enough. He finished his offering and bowed to pay his gratitude. Up high on Olympus Zeus gazed down on the one human they had to entrust with the future and well-being of Gaia. "You are still not convinced father?" Asked Apollo. "He seems capable. But are you certain his heart will be good enough to summon our blessings? After all, he is human." Apollo hissed. "He is not just human! He is my son!" The last demi-god that still roamed Gaia, their last resort.


End file.
